Still His Girl
by Angel's blue eyed girl
Summary: This is an AR fic that takes place during and after "A Girl in the Gator" of ‘Bones’ for the most part, but with Buffy added into the mix. Also, as always in my fics...there is a major **SMUT WARNING** here.
1. Chapter 1

_**Still His Girl**_

_**A fic by: Angel's blue eyed girl**_

_**Rating: M**_

_**Disclaimer: Sadly, I own none of the characters from Bones or Buffy the Vampire Slayer.**_

_**Pairing: Seeley Booth and Buffy Summers**_

_**Summary: This is an AR fic that takes place during and after 'A Girl in the Gator' of 'Bones' for the most part. Also, as always in my fics—there is a *SMUT WARNING* here. **_

_**A/N: Thank you to Amber for beta reading this and encouraging me to write this. You're the best and I adore you, babe!**_

_**A/N 2: Okay guys, I know-I know…I have WAY too many fics that are being neglected to start a new fic, but musie wants what she wants and this idea of Booth & Buffy just won't go away. It just won't! I was reading some Booth/Buffy fics and I just kept thinking—I can do that better…make it more Buffy, you know?? So, musie got on her tangent, and she wouldn't stop until I wrote this. I hope you enjoy it, and PLEASE don't lynch me for posting this before SC's or Wish, okay??**_

_**Hugs,**_

_**Jen**_

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Prologue:

Rome 2004.

He was dead. She known it of course—had _felt_ it when she'd awoken a week ago screaming his name, but hearing it confirmed was too much, and she was having a hard time wrapping her mind around the reality that he was really gone. Angel couldn't die—he was supposed to live forever—at least outlive her, yet here she was listening to Spike explain how he 'went down like a champion' slaying a dragon of all things! Buffy really didn't give a shit if he was slaying twenty dragons—he wasn't supposed to die. She was done baking, and he was supposed to be here to enjoy her Buffy cookies.

She was sickeningly aware at how lame that sounded now. Hindsight—it may be twenty/twenty, but it was also a bitch. If only she'd known they had so little time left…she'd have told him how much she still loved him. She'd have taken that time and ran with it. God, she'd been a fool. Now it was too late. He was lost to her.

Spike was still talking, but she was no longer listening—hadn't really paid attention after 'he went down like a champion' truthfully.

"Spike can we talk later?" she asked, as the hole in her heart seemed to rip open spilling forth a flood of raw anguish. She glanced down at her chest almost expecting to see a gaping wound there. "I-I just need to…deal. Alone." She stood up abruptly, and her chair tipped over. The sound of the wood crashing to the floor was loud in the silence and suddenly the tears she'd been fighting ever since Spike had uttered those three words, 'he was dead' overflowed and Buffy couldn't hold back her misery anymore. "Why didn't you do something?" she cried. "Why did you let him die?" She realized her anger at Spike was irrational, but that didn't stop her from lashing out at him. "Why couldn't it have been you?!" Dawn gasped and Buffy felt sick as she watched Spike's already pale face whiten further. She wanted to apologize, but she couldn't seem to form the words. The only thing going through her mind was 'he's gone—dead, and he's never coming back!'

The blond vampire was stunned she blamed him. His undead heart broke a little as he tried to explain what had happened that day in the alley in Los Angeles. "I tried, pet, but he wouldn't listen. You know how he was. He wanted to be the bloody hero. Slay the dragon and all that rot. He averted the Apocalypse—he died doing what he did best—saving souls." Buffy's lip quivered and Spike wanted to hold her, but he knew she might react violently if he touched her right then. "If it makes you feel better, I think he earned that redemption he always wanted." Buffy's face was still scrunched up in a fierce scowl, and Spike wilted under it. "You know I'd bloody well trade places with him if I could, but I can't," he finished turning away from her angry gaze.

Buffy felt sick for hurting him like that and finally found her voice. "Spike, I didn't mean that. I—" Her throat closed and she shook her head—this was too much. Too hard, and she had to get away before she totally lost it. "I-I can't do this right now. I'm sorry…" she murmured, rushing from the room.

Spike watched her run away and felt his heart break a little more. Figures it would be Angel's death that brought her down. She'd survived just fine when she thought _he'd_ died. Why was it always about Angel? But then he remembered his Sire's grin as he'd leaped on that dragon's back, and Spike smiled too. The ponce always had liked to show off, and in his final moments he'd outdone even Angelus in his sheer 'bugger-it-all' attitude. He'd wrestled the dragon to the ground, and rammed his claymore into its heart, but the thing with dragons is nothing was what it appeared, and none of them had expected it to spill lava from its chest when Angel had skewered it—it had happened so fast, there was no time to save him. One minute Angel was slaying the huge winged beast—the next he was on fire and turning to dust. Spike winced at the memory. He may not have actually liked his Sire, but he'd respected him.

Dawn laid her hand on top of his. "She just needs some time to deal with it, Spike. She doesn't really blame you."

He nodded, drawn back from his musings. "I know, Bit. It just hurts to see her like this." He sighed and rubbed his temples before drilling Dawn with his intense blue eyes. "She's not going to get over this. You know that, don't you?"

Dawn frowned. "What do you mean? She and Angel haven't been together in years. Why would you say that?"

His eyes widened, before he shook his head. They were still so blind. He patted his jacket, found his cigarettes and lit one. "You were watching when she ran out here like the very devil was on her heels, weren't you?" he asked, expelling a cloud of smoke. He quirked a brow and asked, "Did that look like the reaction of a chit no longer head over arse in love?"

Dawn let out a long sigh. "No…guess not," she admitted. "So, what can we do?"

"Just give her time and space and bloody realize she never stopped loving him—let her grieve and don't tell her to snap out of it, because she won't," he said, standing up.

"Where are you going?" she asked.

Spike shrugged and took another drag of his cigarette. "Well, Vienna is nice this time of year…went there with Angelus back in the day. I think I'll just travel for a bit…" He shrugged. "You know…just deal with it in my own way."

Dawn nodded and got up to hug him. "You're always welcome here," she whispered, before kissing him on the cheek.

He cupped her jaw lightly. "Yeah, I know, but not right now." He ran his hand along his gelled platinum head and glanced into the house a sad expression on his handsome face. "I remind her too much of him—best I go for a while. I'll call you and check in," he said, and then he was gone, leaving only the faint smell of tobacco smoke in his wake.

Dawn watched him until he was out of sight, before she sagged back into her chair. How had they all been so ignorant to what Buffy was really feeling? Spike was right. Buffy was no where near over Angel. Thinking about it now, Dawn realized her emotions were still as deep as they were at sixteen when she'd first fallen for the handsome vampire, and suddenly the younger Summers' sibling felt like she had never really taken the time to get to know her sister at all. Obviously Buffy had been carrying this burden of unfulfilled love around for a long time, and all her supposed friends and family had done was bash her relationship with him. Yeah, some help they were.

Dawn felt sick and more than a bit disgusted with herself and the rest of the gang. "How could we have been so blind?" she asked out loud.

Inside her room, Buffy lay on her bed sobbing softly. She felt terrible for the things she'd said to Spike, but she just couldn't get past the fact that Angel was gone and Spike was still here. Like a bad penny. She immediately felt more guilt, but she couldn't seem to stop the agonized, angry thoughts that were assailing her from all sides. They'd sacrificed so much and for what? Death and loneliness was all they'd ever gotten for all their trouble. She was so tired of caring. Angel had cared—he'd even given up his humanity for the good fight—oh yeah—she remembered that, but the almighty Powers never seemed to care, so why should she?

Irate again, she picked up the phone and dialed Giles' number. He didn't pick up and she growled softly as she heard his voice on the answering machine. When the beep sounded, she let out a broken sob. "He's dead! I hope you're happy," she choked out. "Maybe if you'd told me the truth instead of sending Andrew there…" She paused, her voice full of venom. "You lied to him—told him I didn't care—that I didn't trust him. I think I started hating you when I heard that Giles—I really hated you when you suggested I seduce the Immortal for the good of the 'Cause'. Maybe if you hadn't done that—maybe if I hadn't—he might have called…" She fell into a fit of deep wrenching sobs. "But we did and he didn't trust _us_ anymore. Now he's dead, Giles—dusted—never coming back!" she cried. "I'm done—no more. You have plenty of Slayers to carry your fight—leave me alone."

Buffy took several ragged breaths. "I don't know if I'll ever forgive you for lying to him—lying to me. I just wanted you to know when I found out he died…I died too, and I blame you for that." She gave a hysterical little broken laugh. "I guess that finally makes us even, huh? He took Jenny, and now you've taken him—and me. Stay out of my life," she whispered. Then sadly, almost robotically, she hung up the phone.

Immediately, Buffy curled into a ball as her grief overwhelmed her. "Angel…" she whimpered brokenly, clutching a pillow to her chest, "I love you." She clenched her eyes shut as if that would shut out this gut wrenching pain that seemed to perforate her very soul.

Through out the night, she cried until she had no more tears to shed. She ignored Dawn knocking on her door, asking if she was okay. She wasn't, and didn't want to talk about it. She ignored Giles' attempts to reach her after he'd received her venomous message too. She had nothing to say to her ex-watcher. She honestly didn't know if she'd ever have anything to say to him again. She ignored everyone and everything as years of a life without Angel in the world seemed to stretch in front of her. The emptiness grew until she felt hollow inside, and by the time Buffy finally fell into a fitful sleep, she knew she was never going to be the same—as far as the Powers were concerned, they could find a new whipping post. She was done. It was time she started living her life according to what she wanted, and the first thing she wanted was to find out if there was a way to bring him back.

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Washington DC: 2005

Special Agent Seeley Booth smirked as he leaned against the door frame and watched her try and get herself out of her newest debacle.

"You were illegally transporting human remains Ma'am, _and_ you assaulted a Homeland Security Agent!" the guard exclaimed.

Temperance Brennan rolled her expressive blue eyes. "Look, I'm sorry if I embarrassed you in front of your friends, but next time you really should identify yourself before attacking me!"

Booth chuckled and Brennan's head whipped his way. "What are you doing here?"

He stepped forward and flashed his ID and badge at the Homeland Security Guard. "F.B.I." he said. "I'm Special Agent Seeley Booth, Major Crimes Division." He glanced at Brennan. "Bones works with me."

"Don't call me Bones," Brennan complained, but Booth ignored her. "She also writes books—she's not a threat to Homeland Security, alright?"

The Guard looked over Booth's credentials and nodded. "Fine, she's all yours—and good riddance too. That woman is a menace."

Brennan shot him a dirty look. "I told you—had you identified yourself I wouldn't have hit you."

Booth took her arm. "Great, so we're all set. Grab your skull, Bones, and let's vamoose." She shot him a suspicious look, which he returned with his 'charm smile'. "Unless you want to stay here and be questioned by Homeland Security for the rest of the day?"

"No, but why do I get the feeling you set me up?"

He laughed. "You have a suspicious mind, you know that…?" But the smirk that spread across his face told her he had definitely set her up and she rolled her eyes, but grabbed her skull and left with him just the same. A choice between being railroaded into helping Booth, and being held in this room anymore was a no brainer, and really wasn't a choice at all…

"Now I remember why I told Zack never to put you through security at the Jeffersonian again," she grumbled as she followed Booth out of the tiny interrogation room.

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**Galway Ireland: New Years Eve 2006**

Buffy trudged in the door feeling a little more despondent today than she had since she'd started this quest to bring Angel back. She'd started in L.A. and worked her way back—visiting all the cities he had until she'd ended up here in Ireland…where it had all began, and yet…she was still no closer to finding him. She hung up her jacket by the door and made her way to her kitchen to warm herself a pot of tea, something she'd taken up drinking since she'd spent so much time in Europe lately. Dawn had been upset Buffy had wanted to be alone for Christmas, but the Slayer was in no mood to celebrate. She felt cold inside—dead almost, like all the joy had been sucked out of her the moment she found out Angel had been dusted.

By rote, she got out a cup, put the tea-bag in it and filled the pot with water before placing it on the stove. While she waited for the water to boil, she headed into her bedroom to change. The tea-pot was just beginning to whistle when she made her way back to the living-room dressed in warm flannel pants, wool socks, and one of Angel's long sleeved silk shirts.

"Hey kid, you can't give up—he's not a total lost cause, ya know?" a voice suddenly said from across the room.

Startled, Buffy almost dropped the hot pot of water she was holding. "Who's there?" she asked, setting the pot down and grabbing her ever handy stake.

Whistler stepped forward, a smile on his chubby face. "Come on kid, don't tell me you've forgotten me?"

Buffy recognized the badly dressed demon at once. She frowned and set the stake down. "What the hell do you want?"

"Wow, I'd like the new Mustang and a friendlier greeting, but I'll settle for a hey Whistler, how are ya?."

Buffy snorted dismissively. "Well, good luck with the Mustang. In regards to the other…" She gave him a sarcastic smile. "Let's just say, I wouldn't hold my breath if I were you."

"I think you might change your tune when you hear what I have to say."

"Really. And why is that?" she asked, raising a brow.

"I'm here to give you that pep-talk you need. You know, tell you not to give up hope, and all that. Remember you only have—"

She slammed the pot down on the stove, and for the first time Whistler felt a niggling of guilt for all the Powers had put this young woman through. "Don't tell me not to give up hope, Whistler. You and your bosses snatched away my hope and happiness—I didn't lose it!"

"But you still have a duty. You can't just turn your back on your calling. Angel did—"

"Don't! Don't even say his name. You have no right. You and your bosses used him and then abandoned him!"

"No, he fulfilled his prophecy, Slayer—which is something you're turning your back on right now."

"Well, guess what? I don't care—now go run off and tell your Powers that I'm done. Do you hear me? D-O-N-E!"

"It's not that simple, Buffy."

She rushed across the room, and her fist connected with his jaw before the little demon had time to react. Her punch sent him sailing across the room to crash into the wall, and before he could get up, Buffy placed her foot in his chest and kept him pinned against the floor and the wall. "See how simple it is?" she snarled. "Is this the actions of a warrior for the Powers?" She smirked when he just gaped up at her. "What? No witty comeback—no rousing 'rah-rah' speech…? I'm disappointed."

Whistler gurgled and tried to remove her foot. "Slayer—I'm just the messenger," he choked out.

Buffy lifted some of the pressure off his chest. "Well then deliver this—tell your bosses to stay out of my way and leave me the hell alone!" she snapped, before taking her foot out of his chest and letting him up.

The demon got to his feet and adjusted his polyester suit jacket. "Hey, no need to get physical Slayer," he said picking up the hat she'd knocked off. He plopped it back on his head and smiled. "You pack a hell of a punch—no wonder the big-guy never got over you."

"Say his name, and I swear I'll kick your ass all the way back to whatever dimension you came from," she growled. He looked stunned, and Buffy turned away from him—she hated this rage, but she couldn't seem to stop it anymore. It was eating her up inside. She put her head in her hands. "Please just go—I can't deal with you and this anymore. It's you're fault—you and the Powers. You just couldn't let us be happy, could you?" she whispered as a tear rolled down her cheek. She hadn't cried in so long—she'd kept all her emotions focused on finding a way to get him back, that her tears felt almost foreign to her now.

Whistler could feel the raw anguish in the Slayer and realized how wrong the Powers had been. Buffy needed Angel. He took his hat off and scratched his balding head, debating the wisdom of what he was about to do. The consequences for defying the Powers would be grim, but Whistler felt a real affection for this brave woman who'd shouldered the fate of the world on her slim shoulders and he knew she was cracking—she wouldn't make it back if he didn't help her. He went to stand next to her and laid a hand on her arm. "What if I were to tell you he wasn't really dead?"

Buffy froze—every nerve seemed to sizzle as she absorbed that statement. Her eyes shot up and her breath caught. "What are you saying?"

Whistler knew there was going to be hell to pay for what he was about to do, but what the hell—what could the Powers really do besides send him to some far off dimension for a thousand years. He almost changed his mind, but those sad green eyes went right to his conscience. "Do you still love him?"

Her thoughts had completely scattered at his last sentence and Buffy had to drag her mind back to what he was saying. "What?" Her eyes drilled into his and she stalked closer to him—deadly now in her determination to find out what the hell he meant by 'he wasn't really dead'. She stopped a foot in front of him and tilted her head to the side. "You know something…something about, Angel, don't you?"

"Slayer, can you just answer the question? Do you still love him?"

"Of course—why else do you think I've been wandering the world searching for a way to bring him back?"

"What if I were to tell you he's never been gone?"

She grabbed him by the lapels of his leisure suit and shook him. "Tell me what you know?"

Whistler pried her hands off him. "Easy Slayer—roughing me up isn't going to get you anywhere. At this point, I'm all you got." He straightened his suit and took her hand. "First off, what I'm about to tell you is going to get me in all kinds of trouble with the Powers…" He shrugged. "But what the hell—you kids have earned a break."

"Whistler, tell me what you know," she demanded.

"I know he's not dead. Actually, he's pretty far from dead."

Buffy heart was thundering in her chest. "Don't give me the cryptic. Just tell me where he is."

"He's in D.C. as in Washington…" Buffy started to race from the room, but Whistler grabbed her arm, halting her mad dash. "Whoa there Slayer...before you fly off to find him, there's a few things you need to know first…"

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**Okay guys, hope you liked this, now...you know the drill--click that little blue button and feed my greedy musie...I know she's a total review whore, right? lol! But the more you feed her--the more she feeds me!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Still His Girl**

**A fic by: Jen**

**Rating: M**

**Disclaimer: I own none of the characters of Bones or BtVS I just like to play with them to satisfy my inner demons! ;)**

**Thank you to Amber for beta reading this for me. You're the very best, babe and I love ya bunches!**

**As always thank you to everyone who R&R's. I'm really happy with the response this fic is getting! Thank you for not roasting & toasting me for starting this when I still haven't updated Wish In Time & Second Chances. I swear I'm trying to get some work done on those and I have, but every time I sit down to write on those fics—something else comes out! Grrr. Musie is so fickle—I swear she'd have a hundred fics going if I'd let her run amok!**

**Okay, now to the shout outs: If you guys get a chance check out any of these authors' fics, you won't be disappointed. They have some amazing B/A/Aus fics out there. Vixangel, Helmi-1, jaymartinez, (who also has a very cool Booth/Buffy fic going) if he'd work on it soon! Lol! Okay jay—I know…like I'm one to talk, but 'You Won't Forget Me' is a great fic. :) Also look for frosty600, elaine451, Maren-fic, Brandi Rochon, MacKenzie Creations, bangel'stheonlywaytogo, Esmerada007, Chyna Fox, and in the Bones department SSJL is awesome! She writes GREAT smut!**

**Okay, enough with my babble, on with the chappie.**

**Xoxo**

**Jen**

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**Chappie 2**

**Washington D.C: January, 2007**

Buffy pulled her rental car across the street from the J. Edgar Hoover building to wait. Whistler had told her he worked here now--as an F.B.I. Agent. She wasn't sure what she was going to say when or even if she saw him. She tried to form some kind of simulated conversation in her head, but Dawn had insisted on coming too, and while her sister's constant chatter was distracting her from the nervousness that had assailed her ever since they'd landed in D.C., it beginning to give her a headache too.

"Dawn—please," she said, rubbing a hand along her brow. "I'm trying to decide what I'm going to say—actually I'm preparing myself to say nothing, because really…we don't know if Whistler's intel was right. What if this is just some huge cosmic joke on the Slayer? What if the Powers are just messing with me again?" Buffy paused. She was sick with the fear that this was just going to turn into another dead end.

"But Whistler told you something the PTB's didn't want him to, right? He said Angel was here. We just need to find him. So that's what we're doing--it'll work out, Buffy. I know it."

Buffy wished she had her sister's enthusiasm, but after so many disappointments--hope was a slim commodity for her right now. "But what if Whistler was wrong? What if—" Her words came to a screeching halt as a man in a black suit and tie exited the building. He was talking on a cell phone animatedly, and Buffy's breath caught as her eyes swept over him. She'd recognize that tall, broad shouldered physique anywhere. Oh God--it was really him. A wave of dizziness washed over her and her heart thundered in her chest as she greedily drank in the sight of his beloved features. Tears of joy sprung to her eyes and she blinked them back furiously—she could cry later. Right now she just wanted to bask. "Or it could be totally true," she said softly, never taking her eyes off him.

"Oh my God," Dawn gasped. Her wide blue eyes trained on the handsome man as he crossed the street and headed for a black SUV. "Look at him—in the sun and everything—no blankets, no fire. Wow, he looks awesome."

Buffy wasn't listening. Every nerve in her body was tingling—alive…just like he was. "Angel," she breathed, swallowing hard as her throat closed up again. No, not Angel…Whistler had told her he was Special Agent Seeley Booth now.

"Well," Dawn prompted. "What are you waiting for? There he is…"

Buffy shot her sister a scowl. "And just what am I supposed to say, Dawn? 'Hi, I'm Buffy—you don't remember me, but I was your girlfriend in a past life—oh and by the way you were a vampire!'" Buffy rolled her eyes. "He'd probably have me committed."

"But you can't just let him get away."

"Dawnie, I'm not hunting him," she said exasperatedly. "I just need to…" She paused and her lower lip jutted a bit. "Watch him for a bit. You know? Figure out the best way to introduce myself."

"Skulk in the shadows, you mean," Dawn said and giggled when Buffy's brows drew down again, but the younger woman brushed off her sister's look and waved a hand airily. "Kind of like what he used to do to you, except without the grrr factor."

Buffy chuckled softly. "Yeah. I guess, but at this point, I'm so nervous, I'm all for the skulking—skulking good—talking bad."

They watched as he got into the vehicle. Buffy started her engine, and prepared to follow him.

"So are we skulking or stalking?" Dawn quipped.

Buffy pouted. "It's not stalking. It's…reconnaissance."

Rolling her expressive blue eyes, Dawn sighed, "Whatever—feels like stalking to me."

"Well, it's not," Buffy replied, putting the car in gear. "It's just…I need to see who he is now. You know…observe and decide how best to approach him? I knew Angel, but I don't know Seeley Booth. I need to—"

"Stalk him for a while," Dawn supplied, earning another scowl from Buffy. The young woman just shrugged off her sister's frown. "You could just accidentally bump into him, you know. I mean, you guys had this once in a lifetime kind-a love—maybe it might trigger a memory if you just ran into him."

Buffy carefully pulled out into traffic and made a quick U-turn to follow him. She gave her sister a side-ways glance. "It's not that simple. Whistler said his memory of Angel or Angelus is gone—wiped away, like it never existed." Her hands tightened on the wheel and Dawn could see how much it pained Buffy to know all her memories with him had been taken from him—erased as if they hadn't mattered. The retired Slayer shook her head. "He has a completely different set of memories now, Dawnie. Memories I'm not a part of, memories I can't even share because Whistler made me promise not to tell him who he was, remember?" she said softly. "So I need to decide how to meet him, because I can't walk away, but thanks to my bargain with that polyester suited demon, I can't just walk right up to him and say 'hi' either." She sighed. "It's complicated."

Dawn sympathized. "I'm sorry, Buffy. Those Powers—how dare they just take away his memory!" She crossed her arms furiously. "God—arrogant much? I mean how can they just erase your past with him? That's just—it just sucks!"

Buffy nodded in agreement, but she'd already ranted and raged over it—she was past that stage. "You know what--no more bitching about the Powers--he's alive, Dawn. He's actually here, so whatever has happened--it's so worth it, as long as he's still alive. That's all I wanted." She gave her sister an impish grin, and licked her lips. "He _does _look nummy though--doesn't he?"

Dawn laughed. "Totally hot," she agreed. The black SUV suddenly made a right turn, and Dawn pointed to the next street. "Hurry…you need to make a right there, or else we're going to lose him."

Buffy accelerated, and her tiles squealed a bit as she made the turn. As much as Dawn harassed her, she was glad her sister had demanded to be here for her. She was having a hard time concentrating on the simplest of things like…breathing. There was no way she'd have kept it together enough to follow him if Dawn wasn't here. She gave her sister a grin. "Okay, you keep an eye on his truck, and I'll make sure we get there in one piece."

Knowing how Buffy drove, Dawn rolled her eyes again, but kept quiet. Buffy was nervous enough as it was and with good reason—it wasn't everyday you saw your supposedly dusted ex-vampire lover came back from the dead, and was made human with no memory of his previous life.

She pointed at the next intersection. "Okay, at the next street make a left."

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Booth pulled up in front of the Royal Diner. He got out of his truck and glanced around. He'd had the strangest feeling that he was being watched, but he didn't see anything remotely threatening, so he shrugged it off. A white Toyota pulled in a few spaces down from him and he glanced over at the car. Two women were in it, a brunette and a blonde. His eyes roamed over them before focusing on the blonde driving. She was petite, he could tell—and a real stunner. He lowered his shades to get a better look at her. Her long blond hair was pulled up into a pony-tail; she had full lips, and a cute-kind of quirky nose. He couldn't see her eyes because she was wearing sunglasses, but he thought they'd either be green or blue—for some reason he was thinking green. He shook his head. Jeez, she looked familiar to him somehow, but that wasn't possible. He'd remember meeting a knock-out like that. He noticed her checking him out too, and a slow smile spread across his face, but before he could decide the best way to meet her, Temperance Brennan came out of the diner.

"Booth," she called, drawing his attention away from the cute woman in the Toyota.

"Hey, Bones," he said. Just then his phone rang. He grabbed it from his jacket as an Ice-Cream truck pulled around the corner and stopped in front of the diner. He answered the phone. "Booth," he said. The music from the Ice-Cream truck was loud and he was having a hard time hearing. He turned his back to the truck. "Huh? Did you say Florida? Today?"

"Is that work?" Brennan asked.

He nodded at her. "Yeah," he said and went back to his conversation. "Like hot fun Miami Florida—or sticky, you know, swampy Florida?"

The Ice Cream truck's music seemed to get louder and Booth put a finger to his free ear. "Did you say flight? What flight?" The blaring music was making it impossible for him to have this conversation. "Wait a sec—I can't hear you," he said. He glared at the truck then turned to the driver. "Enough with the song already, alright?"

The Ice-Cream man shrugged. "Hey I'm doing business here—deal with it."

Booth tried to write down the flight information but his pen wouldn't work. "Hold on—my pen's out of ink," he snapped.

Brennan handed him a pen. "Here," she said, shooting the Ice Cream man a frown.

"Hey the music attracts the kids," the man said.

Brennan looked around. "Well, I don't see any kids."

Booth still couldn't hear. "Did you say Everglades?" He rolled his eyes. "I can't hear anything because of this insane music!" Suddenly he pulled his gun, and shot the clown speaker on top of the Ice-Cream truck. People screamed and ran, and Brennan gaped at him in shock.

"Hey, you shot my clown!" the Ice-Cream man exclaimed.

Booth ignored him. "Okay, flight number?" He jotted down the information. "Great, thanks," he said and hung up the phone. He smiled at Bones. "We're all set."

Brennan shook her head, looking from the blown out clown speaker to Booth. "That was not good," she said.

In the car, Buffy and Dawn looked at each other then turned wide eyed stares back to the scene being played out before them.

"Oh my God, did you see that?" Dawn asked.

Buffy frowned. "He looks a little…tense, huh?"

"A little tense?!" Dawn scoffed, giving Buffy an incredulous stare. "He murdered the singing clown, Buffy! That's more than a little tense."

Buffy shrugged it off—she'd seen much worse. "I wouldn't call shooting a clown shaped speaker murder—weird, but not murder."

Dawn frowned. "Call it what you want. I'd say he might still have some Angelus issues in him, but on a positive note…" The younger woman gave Buffy a sly grin and teased, "He was _so_ totally checking you out before he decided to shoot the clown."

"He doesn't have any Angelus in him, Dawn. Angelus was the demon—he's all human," she said as she watched Angel—Booth put his hand on the beautiful brunette's back and escort her to his truck. Jealousy tore through her as she wondered who the woman was to him. Whistler had said they'd given him an entirely new past and memories—complete with a family and a life as Seeley Booth. Was the brunette his girlfriend—wife? The thought of him married made Buffy feel physically ill, and violently angry. If he was married, there wouldn't be a dimension far enough away for Whistler to hide. She'd find that demon and personally tear him a new one!

Booth glanced back over his shoulder as he got in the SUV. The cute blonde in the Toyota was still watching him. "Hold on a sec, will ya, Bones?" he said and without waiting for an answer he jogged over to the woman's car.

Buffy saw him coming and panicked. She started the car and would have peeled out if Dawn hadn't grabbed her hand.

"No," the younger woman said, turning the ignition off. "You can't run away—here he comes." Then she snatched the keys out of the ignition and pocketed them despite Buffy's desperate requests to give them back.

Booth put one arm on the hood of the driver's side of the car and leaned in to get a better look at the woman driving. She was even cuter up close. He flashed his badge and his 'charm-smile'. "Hello ladies, I'm Special Agent Seeley Booth, and I'm going to need to get your names and phone numbers for the report I'm going to have to file for what just happened."

Buffy's mind went blank the moment he'd grinned at her like that. All she could think was 'he's almost sinfully handsome with that smile'. She managed not to gape. "I—um—okay…" was all she could come up with, but she didn't move, instead she pushed her sunglasses up, and smiled at him. She was basking--taking in the curve of his cheek, the dark slashing brows and those eyes—those deep chocolate colored eyes she'd drowned in more times than she could count. God, he was so beautiful, Buffy couldn't get past seeing him here in the flesh. Her eyes watered, and she glanced at Dawn, panicked again.

Dawn saved her. "Here, this is where we're staying," she said, jotting down their information. She casually grabbed her sister's hand and squeezed it reassuringly, as she leaned over Buffy to hand Agent Booth the piece of paper. Buffy gave her a grateful little smile and squeezed her hand back--very glad Dawn was here now. "Hi, I'm Dawn Summers and this is my sister, Buffy. We're visiting—that's the hotel where we're staying. I put Buffy's cell number on there, along with our room number—I mean, for your report," she added, blushing a bit when Buffy gave her a wide eyed look, and Dawn realized how risqué offering him thir room number, along with Buffy's cell had sounded.

He pocketed the card, smiled at Dawn, but his eyes were drawn immediately back to Buffy. She was extremely cute—with the prettiest smile he'd ever seen. It kind of reminded him of the sun-rise. A shiver raced up Booth's spine and he wondered why everything about this woman seemed to strike a chord in him. "Buffy," he said softly, sounding it out and got another tingle. "That's an unusual name." His dark brown eyes locked with Buffy's hazel gaze and he studied her for a moment. "Have we met before?" he asked. Her eyes widened for a second before glancing away. "Hey, that's not a pick-up line, really," he rushed to explain. "It's just…your name…you…" He shook his head—there was that tingle again, and he just couldn't shake the feeling that he'd met this woman before. "I don't know…but you seem familiar to me for some reason."

Buffy bit back the words that wanted to tumble out. Words of love and explanation, but she'd promised Whistler--it didn't stop her from feeling giddy with hope that somewhere inside him he still loved her though, and her panic dissipated as her hope grew. A radiant smile graced her face and she finally found her normally clever wit. "Maybe, but I think I'd remember a guy who likes to shoot clowns—don't tell me...do you also shoot chickens by any chance?"

His jaw dropped before he laughed softly. "I might—chickens freak me out," he growled. "We have met, right?" he asked, leaning in closer. He gave her the half-smile-smirk that still made her knees weak. "I mean, how else would you know I hate chickens?"

Buffy shrugged, deciding to play it coy—it seemed to be working. "I don't know, maybe because you kind-a look like the clown/chicken phobia kind of guy?" she teased, still grinning.

He mock scowled, but his husky laugh belied his look--he was flirting with her. "Really? I thought I came off as the hip, slick and cool F.B.I. guy."

Trembling, Buffy wondered if her heart was going to pound right out of her chest, but she managed to laugh—even if it was a tad breathless. "Well, there _is_ that too," she said, amazed she was sitting here talking with him like this.

Fire Engines, police and various other agencies were starting to arrive on the scene, and Booth glanced over his shoulder at the arriving vehicles, and frowned for real. "Damn," he muttered. This wasn't going to look good for him and he rubbed the bridge of his nose. Buffy saw the reaction, and her heart clenched again. Angel used to do that in times of stress, too. Booth patted his chest where he'd tucked her phone number. "Okay, well, I better…"

Buffy didn't want him to go, but she realized this was going to be a thing. "Start explaining?' she supplied.

He stared at her again. This all seemed surreal like he'd done this with her before. "Yeah. If I need to…"

"Call me?" Buffy prompted when he seemed to stare at her long and hard.

He nodded slowly—what was it about this woman? He felt connected to her—like he'd always known her. That made no sense, so he shrugged it off. "Yeah, call you. I got your number. So…"

Boy did he ever have her number—he always had. Buffy gave him another smile. Their first meeting was going better than she'd hoped. "Yeah," she replied. "You better go and start with the explaining."

He paused. "It was…interesting meeting you, Buffy Summers," Booth said.

Buffy stuck her hand out. "You too, Agent Booth." The moment their hands touched a shock went through them. Buffy had been expecting it, so she didn't react, but Booth gasped softly as electric shivers seemed to tingle up his spine and to other parts of his anatomy.

"I'm sure you're going to be called on to make a statement—so, not to sound cryptic, but don't leave town just yet, okay?" he said, still holding onto her hand.

A giggle bubbled forth. "Cryptic—you?" She frowned as she realized she'd just talked to him like he was Angel and not Booth. "I meant, no we're not—leaving. We'll be here for a while."

He nodded again, still staring at her strangely. "Right—well I better go."

Buffy watched him walk away. Tingles were still shivering along every nerve ending in her body, like she was a live-wire. _That_ was Angel—she didn't have even the slightest doubt. His reaction only solidified her belief.

"Why did you ask him if he shot chickens?" Dawn asked, interrupting her thoughts.

"Because Angel had a thing about chickens. It was weird really—big tough guy vampire with a chicken phobia," Buffy answered with a small smile. "I used to tease him about it."

Dawn had been a bit doubtful, but after seeing him and his reaction to Buffy—she didn't have any more doubts. "It's really him, isn't it?"

Buffy nodded. "Yeah Dawnie, it really is…the only question is what do I do now?"

Booth walked away with the most bizarre feeling like he'd just met a woman that was going to drastically change his life. He'd never believed in the phrase 'love at first sight', but now he had to wonder if there might be some truth in that statement because Buffy Summers had just twisted him into knots with nothing more than a smile and a handshake.

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_**Okay guys, hope you liked their first meeting—I wanted it to be memorable & since I'm dating this fic at the time when Brennan goes to Florida with Sully—I thought it'd be perfect if Buffy was there to see Booth shoot the clown.**_

_**Anyways, so you know what to do—feed the musie beast because she's a total review whore & the more you feed her—the more she feeds me. ;) :)**_


	3. Chapter 3

**Still His Girl **

**A fic by: Angel's blue eyed girl **

**Rating: M**

**Disclaimer: I own none of them—I just like to play with them so don't sue me!**

**A/N: Amber—I love ya, you're so fast! You guys can all thank Amber for this fic getting posted on so often—she's the best! ;) :) And if you haven't read any of her fics—you're really missing out. She writes under uskohakuchan and she's brilliant, so if you get a chance—check her out! :)**

**Now, I want to say thank you to all of you who have R&R. The feedback means so much, it truly inspires musie to write more, maybe not what you want at the time, but honestly, I can only follow where musie leads. I've tried to force a fic to come to me, but when I do that I just sit there and look at a blank screen for hours and that's no good. I fly where she flits off to…and I know I have a lot of open fics, but I promise, eventually they'll be finished. Some of them are older, and I'm trying to find my inspiration for those again because I don't want to just slap a hokey ending on them and say 'ta-da' they're done. I want to finish every fic I start with the same fire that I started it with.**

**That's why I'm working this one, Bod & WftWB so much…all of them are almost done, and I want to get them finished while Musie is still inspired! :)**

**O—kay…so anyhow, glad you guys seem to like this so much…now, enough of my babble—on with the show. Right?**

**Xoxo**

**Jen**

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**Chappie 3**

**The Hotel Palomar, Washington D.C.:**

A few anxious days passed with no word from Angel—Booth, she reminded herself. She had to remember not to call him Angel. The day after the 'clown-incident' she'd been called in to F.B.I. headquarters to give a statement, but had been disappointed when it wasn't him doing the interview. She tried her best to downplay the incident, but there wasn't much she could do—he _had_ fired his weapon in a public place and by the time she was done, she felt guilty because she'd gotten the feeling that Seeley Booth had a sterling reputation with his superiors at the F.B.I., and his behavior the previous day had been completely out of whack as far as what was his norm. She had to wonder if finding him had pushed the Powers into throwing up another wall. Was this happening to him because of her?

When three days passed, and he still hadn't tried to reach her, Buffy was beginning to lose hope. Maybe he_ had_ only asked for her number so she could give a statement. Had she imagined the chemistry between them? No, she'd felt that tingle. The same one she used to get when Angel was close by—an awareness that had nothing to do with him being a vampire, and everything to do with how she felt about him. Her spirits began to sag, and just when she was trying to work up the nerve to call him—her phone rang.

Dawn was coming out of the bathroom when Buffy hung up the phone. The dark haired Summers' sibling wrapped the towel around her wet hair, took one look at her sister's euphoric face and smiled. "Let me guess…?" she asked, belting her robe tighter. "That was Angel…"

"Booth," Buffy interjected. "We have to remember not to call him Angel, Dawnie." Buffy looked sad for a brief moment. "Because he's not—not anymore…"

"But don't you want him to remember?"

"I don't know," she answered softly. "I mean, a part of me wants Angel back so badly—I wish I hadn't told Whistler I'd keep quiet so I could tell him everything and see if it jogs his memory loose, but the other part of me is saying let him go—he's finally at peace." She went to the window and moved the curtain aside. She could see the Washington Monument and smiled softy. She smiled at the irony of an Irish vampire who ended up being a G-Man in the Nation's capitol. Her lips were still twitching when she turned back to her sister. "Dawn, I think I know why Whistler made me promise…" She sighed. "Like I said—a part of me wants my Angel back…but talking to him—hearing how…happy he sounds. How—'Joe-G-man-normal-guy' he is…it makes me re-think everything, you know?"

"Yeah, he's real 'Joe-average'…" She snorted and rolled her eyes. "He shot an Ice-Cream-truck clown in a busy street, Buffy. There's a part of him that's still on edge—he needs something to make him right—he's still Angel, and he still loves you—he's not normal and don't you dare say he is!"

A bit stunned at her sister's vehemence, Buffy nodded. "I wasn't going to say he was average, Dawnie—Booth or Angel—that man will never be 'just-average'," she said with an appreciative sigh. "He's a walking-talking dream—my dream, but at least as Booth he's not wracked with the guilt of everything Angelus ever did." She looked sad again. "That's why there's a part of me that feels telling him would be selfish. It would be for me—not him." She wrapped her arms around her middle and sighed "I don't ever want to see that tortured sadness back in his eyes, much less be the one to put it there," she finished softly.

They were quiet for a minute. Buffy lost in her own thoughts while Dawn tried to find the right words to ease her sister's burden. She understood and sympathized with Buffy's dilemma. "I'm sorry, Buffy. I wish there was something I could say that would make it easier, but you're right—I don't know if it would be fair to him to tell him…I think it would only hurt him."

"I know," Buffy agreed softly. She sighed and gave herself a mental shake to let go of her melancholy. "You know what? Enough—is there even a _sane _way to tell him something like that anyways?" She snorted, but there was still a trace of sadness there that was unmistakable. "Honestly, can you see me trying to explain?" The retired Slayer rolled her eyes. "I think he'd commit me first—ask questions later."

Glad to see Buffy smiling again, Dawn let the subject of 'to tell or not to tell' drop. "Totally, I'd hate to be on the other end of his temper—I still remember the clown that pissed him off," she joked.

"He wouldn't shoot me, Dawn!" Buffy said, laughing too. Remembering what he'd said earlier, her laughter faded and she winced. "But he did get in trouble for the clown thingy," she said, lower lip jutting. "He's on restricted duty and has to see a psychiatrist."

"So he's going to have some time on his hands—might not be a bad thing then." Dawn waited for the rest—there was no way that was the end of the conversation. Buffy had looked sixteen again when she'd come out of the bathroom, so there was definitely more to this than what she was saying. "Well…? I know that's not it or you wouldn't have been grinning from ear to ear earlier. What else did he say?"

Buffy tried to play it cool, but she couldn't help the smile that spread across her face. She sat at the edge of the bed and shrugged. "Oh…you know…he has some free time and…what I was doing?" She couldn't keep up the pretense of nonchalance for long, and a bubble of laughter burst forth. "Oh and did I mention he asked me out to lunch?"

"No, you like totally didn't!" Dawn exclaimed. "Well, what are you waiting for? Unless you're wearing what you have on…" Dawn made a face as her eyes raked over Buffy's sweat pants and tank top. "I'd say you better rush it—chop-chop! That's so not a look you want him to see on the first date."

"But that's just it—I'm not sure if it_ is_ a date?"

"Buffy, who cares? You're gonna see him soon, and you want to look amazing, right?"

Buffy jumped off the bed, all nervous energy now. "Right—I have so much to do." She rushed over to the closet where she'd hung up her clothes. "Dawnie, you have to help me find something to wear. I want casual, but sexy," she said, grabbing a slinky dress of one of the hangers and holding it in front of her as she turned to look in the mirror. She frowned. "Okay, not _too_ sexy—I don't want to look like a slut," she muttered and tossed the dress aside. "But I want to wow him too," she said, diving back into her clothes. "It's got to be drool-worthy, but not so drool-worthy that he thinks I'm putting the moves on him right away. I need something that says sophisticated sexy…" Buffy began tossing clothes over her shoulder and willy-nilly across the room as she discarded outfit after outfit. "God, why did I pack so many jeans?!" she lamented.

Dawn ducked as clothes whizzed by her head. When a pair of jeans smacked her in the head, she grabbed her sister by the shoulders to stop her frantic closet dive. "Buffy! Calm down. Jeez, hyperventilate much?!" she asked, shaking her. At five foot seven, Dawn towered over her five foot three inch older sister and she used her height to an advantage by forcing Buffy to look into her eyes. "Breathe," she demanded. Buffy glared, but took a few deep breaths. Dawn grinned. "Okay, are we stress free, yet?" Buffy just raised a brow and Dawn turned her towards her closet slowly. She placed her hands on Buffy's shoulders from behind. "Okay, now this isn't your first date. You've actually done this before, you know? So let's look for something cute, but not too dressy…okay?"

Buffy shrugged Dawn off. "I may have dated before, but not with Angel." She took another deep, calming breath. "We never…dated. We just…" She paused, a dreamy smile fluttered across her face, and she shrugged again. "Were, I guess. It seems like one minute I had my foot in his chest, the next I was in love with him. It happened so fast…"

"Yeah, but like you said—he isn't exactly Angel anymore, right? And he still has all the good stuff like being a major hottie, but now he smiles more, _and_ he still has that hero thing going for him—just minus the 'morbid doom and gloom broody thing'—"

"Hey, I kinda liked his broody look. Angel made that very sexy," Buffy shot back.

"Whatever—I'm sure Seeley Booth broods too—he's probably doing it right now after killing the Ice-cream clown!"

Buffy giggled. Dawn's ploy was working. She wasn't nearly so panicked anymore. "Okay-okay, I get it he's still perfect…he's just missing about two-hundred-plus years of baggage."

"Hello? Buffy—don't say that like it's a bad thing. You said it yourself—Angel hated what he'd done in his past as Angelus, so embrace the love you had with him, but let the vamp in him go." Dawn began to rummage through her clothes. "Just be yourself and let him be who he is now." She glanced at Buffy sideways. "Plus, he was_ so_oo into you the other day—I saw that flirty smile and so did you, so really that part of him that fell for you is still there. You just need to find it…and get him to feel it again." She sighed. "Without telling him anything about who he was or about your past together…"

Buffy frowned. Yeah right. She made it sound so easy, but nothing was ever that simple…at least not for her. "Yeah, piece of cake," she muttered sarcastically.

Dawn ignored her and pulled put a pair of worn, hip hugging Levis that fit her sister's diminutive, but curvy body perfectly. "Here," she said handing them to Buffy. "These look awesome on you." Next, she pulled out a cream baby-doll cardigan sweater. "Here—practical and cute. I love the belled sleeves on this one," she said, tossing it on the bed. "Now all we need is a tank underneath…and I think you should wear your black Steve Madden suede boots—unless you want to throw all your clothes around the room, that is?"

Buffy grinned. "Is this your way of saying I was freaking out?"

Dawn gave a dramatic sigh. "Do I really need to say it?"

Buffy grinned and headed off to the bathroom to shower. "Nope, but everything has to be perfect…it's—"

"Booth," Dawn said with a grin.

The Slayer stopped. "Right, it's Booth," she agreed, still acclimating herself with that name. "I want to look good, is there anything wrong with that?" Dawn just smirked and Buffy ignored her sister's expression. "I can't believe I found him…he does look way happier doesn't he?" she said as she grabbed her robe, and a towel.

"Um—I was kinda going with 'stressed out-going to a shrink-killer clown guy', but I guess happy fits too," Dawn teased, getting a black tank top out for Buffy.

Buffy stuck her tongue out at her sister. "Brat," she said, and shut the door before Dawn could wing back a smart assed reply.

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**Dr. Gordon Wyatt's backyard:**

Booth hung up with Buffy, and started working on the barbeque again. He was humming when the Doctor came back outside a short while later.

"Oh that looks splendid," Gordon Wyatt said, noticing the work Booth had done in his absence. "So was it your father who taught you to read plans?"

Booth smirked. "Wrong tree, Doc. Dad and I…we were pretty tight. No trauma there."

Dr. Wyatt made an *hmmm* sound. "Well, it's just that earlier you said that you weren't used to drinking tea with other men…which suggests to me that you're usually quite rigid with your assignment of gender roles, am I right?"

Booth looked surprised. "What? No-no! I told you, my partner is a woman, okay? I have no problem working with women. Hey-as a matter of fact-I love women, alright?"

Dr. Wyatt noticed the new energy the Agent seemed to have. "Are you currently involved then?"

Booth scowled, not happy with discussing his personal life. "No. I just broke up with someone, actually," he answered. "Me. I ended it." He thought of Buffy suddenly, and a little smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

"Ahh—what does that smile mean?" Dr. Wyatt asked, watching him like a hawk.

Booth's brows drew down immediately. "Nothing," he replied.

"I don't think it's nothing, and if you aren't honest with me Agent Booth, I can't help you, and I certainly can't sign your release paper, now can I?"

"That's blackmail—you realize that, right?" Booth complained.

Gordon Wyatt merely smiled and waited. Booth let out a loud sigh. "Fine, I met someone the other day—actually the same day I shot the clown."

"Earlier or at the same time you had your incident…?" Dr. Wyatt asked.

"Actually she was a witness to it and she didn't think I was crazy." He said it with a 'so there' kind of attitude, accompanied by a smirk, and Dr. Wyatt made another *hmmm* sound which made Booth scowl. "What does that 'hmmmm' mean? Why can't you just say what you're thinking?"

Dr Wyatt smiled mysteriously. "What do you think it means?"

Booth glared. "That's why I was asking you?"

"Do you really want to know what I think, or do you want to hear what you want me to say?"

"Huh?" Booth asked. "What does that mean?"

"I think you appear interested in this woman, and in more than as a witness, am I right?"

Booth looked away, uncomfortable. "I—" He paused and frowned. "Honestly I don't know what I feel—I just met her, but I can't stop thinking about her." He ran a hand down his face, and sighed. "It's like—I've known her forever," he said, knowing how trite that sounded. "And don't *hmmm* me, Doc because I know that sounds ridiculous, but there's just something about this girl that draws me in...besides the way she looks."

"So there was an immediate attraction, then?" Dr. Wyatt asked.

Booth scowled at him. "Well, yeah. Of course, she's cute, petite and blonde—totally my type, but it was more than that." He rubbed the back of his neck, as he tried to find the right words. "I wanted to call her the minute I got her number--but I didn't because I knew she was going to be called as a witness to my shooting. I thought that would be crossing a line, you know?" the Agent said, feeling more than a bit self-conscious at the Doc's intent stare.

"Keeping the boundary lines are important to you, aren't they?"

Booth scowled. "You say that like it's a bad thing." Dr. Wyatt just studied him closer and Booth resisted the urge to squirm.

Dr. Wyatt nodded. "But, was she directly involved with your shooting?"

The agent shook his head. "No," he answered. "She was just a bystander."

"Then after she gives her statement, I think it's safe to say there will be no conflicts of interest here...no lines to be crossed, right?"

"She already gave her statement—she tried to excuse me as a matter of fact," Booth said. He chuckled. "She called the clown annoying and the Ice-Cream man definitely shoot-able." Dr. Wyatt made yet another *hmmm* sound, Booth scowled. "And hey, I will cross lines--I just asked her out to lunch," he growled- triumphantly. All that was missing was an 'a-ha' exclamation there and Dr. Wyatt's smile widened as Booth went on irately. "So why don't you put that down in your little notebook there and read what you want out of it, okay?"

Dr. Wyatt smiled at Booth's open defensiveness. "Ahh, I had noticed you seemed perkier when I came back—so, you'd just spoken with her then?"

Booth narrowed his eyes. He hated being psycho-analyzed like this. "Maybe, why?" he asked, but when the doctor didn't answer he got even more frustrated. "Look Doc, what are you trying to say? Just spell it out will ya? And don't *hmmm* me, because it really isn't doing it for me."

Dr. Wyatt glanced at his watch and jumped up from his seat suddenly. "Well, look at that—we're out of time."

"I don't care if we're out of time, you didn't answer my question," Booth snapped.

"And I can't answer your questions until I've gotten to know you better." He paused and raised a brow. "But I will say this—you like to control your environment, don't you? You tend to do things well, but you embrace your quiet rebellions--your socks and ties...those are quiet rebellions...those are all indicative of your need to be in control—whether it's professional or personal, but this woman—she's quite literally thrown you a…" He smiled, "curve ball, yes? And in this instance you feel quite out of control, but surprisingly, your not drawing one of your lines with her, and that intrigues me. Why is that, do you think?" Booth just stared at the Doctor and Wyatt smiled. "Maybe you should think about that and we can talk about that during our next session." He got out his date book. "Does tomorrow work for you?"

Booth's jaw hung for a moment before he closed it with a snap. He had no intention of trying to explain his feelings for Buffy when_ he_ didn't even understand them. "Can't you just sign the paper?" he growled, shoving his 'Release to Active Duty' paper at him. "I need to get back to work—you know? Solving crimes with my partner—she needs me."

Dr. Wyatt handed him back the document unsigned. "That would be excellent in theory, but not quite right. Dr. Brennan is in capable hands, am I correct?"

Booth grudgingly took the paper back and nodded. "Yeah, Sully is a good Agent."

"Yes, very good then." Dr. Wyatt flipped through his date book and got out his pen. "So…what time would you like to schedule?" he asked.

Booth looked frustrated for a moment before he resignedly stuck the paper back in his pocket. "Same time, I guess," he grumbled.

Dr. Wyatt smiled. "Excellent—I'll see you tomorrow then." Booth started towards his truck, still grumbling, and Gordon watched him, still smiling. "Oh, and you'll let me know how your _date_ goes won't you?" he called, smirking as he heard Booth's sharp, indrawn breath.

Booth had stopped dead in his tracks at Wyatt's comment. '_Date?!_' It was lunch, it wasn't— he got a nervous tingle in his belly, and he had to admit this wasn't just lunch. It _was_ a date. Wyatt's question played over in his head and he snorted. Like that was going to happen. "Yeah, whatever Doc," he called back over his shoulder and continued on to his truck. There was no way that shrink was going to make _him_ his pet-project!

He slid behind the wheel of the SUV, and started the engine. The clock flashed on and Booth scowled at the time. Damn, he only had a half hour to get to Dupont Circle—he recognized he was more than just a bit nervous and it stunned him. What was about this woman? He wasn't sure, but he hadn't been this excited about someone in…His frown deepened as he realized he'd never been this excited about a date. A man with less confidence might have turned tail and ran at that realization, but Booth was made of sterner stuff. He might not wear his heart on his sleeve, but he believed in love and fate. He felt something for Buffy—he wasn't sure what, but it had been instantaneous, and it was powerful…he had to see where it led.

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Buffy pulled up to the Jack's Bar and Grille at five after one. She was a tad late, but hoped he wasn't here yet. Her hopes were dashed when she recognized his black SUV by the Federal plates displayed at the back of the bumper. "Well, they say it's a woman's prerogative to be late—it's even fashionable…right?" she whispered out loud as she spotted him sitting on the patio, sipping a beer. A wistful smile crossed her face as she observed him for a second. The only time she'd seen Angel eat was on the day that wasn't. She remembered how happy he'd been to taste real food…

With a mental shake, Buffy abandoned that line of thinking—that would only make her cry and she so didn't want to get weepy and ruin her make-up. As a precaution, she checked her face and wiped away the black smudge that had started to form. She applied a bit more peach lip gloss and checked her hair. Dawn had helped her with it, and Buffy loved the flyaway curls her sister had created. Normally she didn't wear such a carefree look, because she wasn't carefree anymore, but today it seemed perfect and Buffy was more than pleased with the way it looked. Her over-large, chunky, gold hoop earrings topped off her outfit, and Buffy felt confident and sexy as she headed into the Restaurant to meet the ex-lover who didn't remember her.

Booth noticed her the second she got out of her car. He took in her ruffled sweater, tight jeans and knee high boots, and had the urge to wipe his mouth just to check and see if he was drooling. She strode towards him and he had to suppress a growl as men's heads turned and practically devoured her as she walked by. She didn't just walk—she stalked—like she was a predator. It was incredibly hot and he felt his body spring to life the closer she came. She brushed a lock of blond hair back from her face, flashed a brilliant smile his way and gave him a look that made him de-evolutionalize. He was more than a bit stunned by the animalistic urge he felt to toss her over his shoulder and carry her away somewhere. He shook his head. Whoa! Where the hell had that come from? He adjusted his pants and waited for her to join him, tamping down his cave-mannish desires.

Buffy couldn't help but notice the way his eyes roamed her body. Her belly clenched, and she felt a flood of moisture soak her panties at the heated look he sent her way. That look was _so_ Angel; her knees went a bit weak. She slid into the seat opposite him. "Hi," she breathed, giving him another flirtatious smile.

He blinked, felt his throat close up, and for the first time in more years than he could remember he was tongue tied. He stared at her like a deer caught in the headlights of a car. She was so pretty, and she had the whitest—most perfect teeth he'd ever seen. Booth shook his head as if to clear it, when it suddenly occurred to him he was feeling all of about twelve with his first crush, all over again, and he couldn't help but wonder where the usual finesse he had with women had gone.

"Hey," he responded gruffly, glad he was seated so she couldn't see how flustered, and turned on she was making him.

The silence got suffocating for a moment as they both tried to come up with something clever to say.

"So…" they both said in unison and then laughed.

"You first," Booth said, happy to hand the reigns of conversation off to her.

Buffy frowned because she had so many thoughts running through her head and most of them she couldn't begin to explain to him. "Okay, tell me about yourself—how long have you been in the F.B.I. Where are you from? Were you born here in D.C.? What did you do before the F.B.I.?" She suddenly stopped and blushed. "Wow—sorry. I usually don't fire off questions like that." She played off her over-active enthusiasm to know every detail of his life with a grin. "But…start with what did you do before joining the F.B.I. and go from there…Enquiring minds wanna know…" she teased, praying her face wasn't as red as it felt.

He didn't know where to start first so he started with his family, then he told her about his stint as an Army Ranger, skipped over the part about being a sniper, until Buffy asked what he did in the Army. He frowned. "I was a sniper, Buffy," he said very softly.

Buffy almost scowled. Damn the powers—still had to give him some guilt, didn't they? She nodded instead. "But you were one of the good guys, right?"

His face clouded over. "I did my job," he said softly, without really answering.

She recognized the way those brows were lowering. He may not 'be' Angel anymore, but he still had the same symptoms that signaled a brood coming on so she changed the subject.

"Okay, so who was that woman you were with the other day?" she blurted out. His head shot up, and Buffy's face turned a brilliant shade of rose as she realized how jealous she sounded. God, he was going to think she was a freak for acting territorial so soon!

Booth watched as she flushed bright red. He found her enchanting, plus he was glad to have the focus off his past. "What woman?" he asked, putting his elbows on the table between them and leaning closer to her.

Buffy leaned in too. She'd wished she hadn't just dropped that bomb like that, but now that the subject was broached she needed to know if he was involved. "That beautiful brunette," she said, encouraged when he didn't call her names and leave.

His brows lowered as he seemed to give it some thought, then his eyes widened and he chuckled softly as he leaned back in his seat. "Oh—you mean Bones?"

"Bones?" Buffy asked, frowning slightly. "She wasn't _that _skinny."

He really laughed then. "No-no. I call her Bones because she's forensic anthropologist—she's my partner, Buffy. She helps me on most of my cases—nothing but a working relationship there," he replied, unsure why he was even explaining this to someone he just met, but he felt the need to do so and went with it.

Buffy knew she was acting junior high-ish, but his explanation made her feel tons better. "So it's just work—you're not…" Her lip jutted and she couldn't help the pout that formed. "You know—with her?" she asked hesitantly.

He grinned and reached out to take her hand. "No, actually I'm here with you, aren't I?"

Buffy gasped as tingles raced up her arm, along her body, and right to that pulsing place between her thighs the moment he touched her. "Yeah, you are, aren't you?" she whispered, putting her elbows on the table too and leaning in even closer.

Booth bit back a groan when her hand tightened around his and shivers danced along every nerve ending of his body. He'd never had such an immediate—almost desperate lust for a woman, but Buffy was something else. She was making him crazy and he hadn't even kissed her yet, but the way she was leaning close—like she wanted to kiss him was sending his body into over-drive, and his brain went with it.

"Wanna get out of here?" he asked suddenly, gripping her hand tighter. His eyes bulged when it dawned on him he'd actually said that out loud—he hadn't even finished the thought before he'd asked the question. What the hell was wrong with him? He was doubly stunned when she nodded.

"Yeah, I really do," Buffy said. She was beyond caring if he thought she was a slut—she wanted him and she wanted him right now. She'd waited so long, at this point, only the other patrons in the establishment kept her from dragging him off to the bathroom so she could have her way with him!

They were kissing before he even got the door to his SUV opened. He backed her to the car, eating at her lips like he was starved. His hands rested on her curvy hips as he pressed her back against the door of the truck. "Jesus Buffy," he murmured against her mouth. "I don't usually come on this strong…but you taste so good—like home, and I know that sounds crazy, but it just is…" he whispered softly, in between kisses.

Buffy's knees sagged and she gripped his biceps to keep herself from falling at his feet in a weak pile of Buffy-goo. "Oh God," she moaned softly, returning his kisses with every ounce of passion and desperation that had built up in the long years since she'd last tasted his lips. "I don't usually do this either, but I feel it too…it's like we've known each other forever, right?"

He cupped her face in his big hands and leaned his forehead against hers. "Buffy," he whispered.

She almost said 'Angel' in return. Instead, she dug her fingers in the soft hair at the nape of his neck and brought his head down for another kiss. "Seeley," she whispered against his mouth and gave in to the urge to take a deeper taste from his lips. She'd wasted enough time—lost him once too many times—the only things on Buffy's mind was how good he tasted, and which was closer—his place or hers.

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**Okay guys, musie is on a roll here—I'm just about finished with this fic. Now feed her so she feeds me, and I promise to try and get some work done on SC's & Wish too, but I can only go where musie leads… and right now she's leading me here.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Still His Girl **

**A fic by: Jen**

**Rating: M**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. I simply play with them because it suits the demons left inside me courtesy of Joss. So don't sue me Hart—especially since you're becoming another evil one in my eyes too! ;)**

**Okay very short A/N because I'm trying to get replies out...thank you to all of you who R&R and for some awesome authors who write amazing B/A & B/B fics check out my profile, okay? I have several faves--they're all amazing writers so give them a peep.**

**Okay, on with the show...**

**xoxo**

**Jen**

****Chappie 4****

"Buffy—wait," Booth gasped, pulling his mouth free from her lips. He was panting harshly, and more turned on that he could ever remember being, but he didn't want to just hop into the sack with her. He'd had casual sex before—who hadn't? But Buffy was different, plus there was the lines--after Epps, and what he'd done to Cam, Booth was far more concerned about crossing the personal/professional lines than ever before. "This is happening so fast—too fast," he said, gathering together the tattered remains of his self control.

Buffy didn't agree. It wasn't happening fast enough as far as she was concerned. She'd waited for years to touch him like this. "I don't usually do this, Seeley, but when it feels this right…it is," she breathed and leaned up on her tip-toes to taste him again.

He usually hated when people called him Seeley, but Buffy's breathless whisper of his name sounded raw and hungry--he got even harder. With a grumble of pleasure he kissed her back again, until he realized how close he was to just tossing her in his car and taking her right here and there. She deserved better than that. "Buffy—wait!" He panted, yanking his head back again. "I don't want to rush this," he said, searching her eyes. "I don't know what's happening with us…but I feel a connection to you, and I don't want to just rush you into bed. We have plenty of time…let's take it a bit slower, huh?"

He was trying to follow his own rules, but the lines he'd spoken to Bones about a week or so ago, just didn't seem so clear when it came to this tiny blond in his arms. There was something--he didn't know what--but something about her that triggered an almost instinctual need. Bones would call it anthropological. Maybe it was, because he was feeling pretty primitive right about now.

Euphoric to have him back in her arms, and sexually aroused to the point of desperation, Buffy's emotions were overwrought when she shook her head and cried, "No! There isn't time—don't you see? There's never enough time!" Her face crumpled. "Trust me, time isn't a luxury. It passes too quickly and then someone's gone and you can't have back the time you wasted…" She looked away, a heart-wrenching look of sadness stamped across her beautiful face. "One day you're baking—thinking you have as much time as you need, then the next you're done, but no one is there to—" She stopped. "Never mind it still sounds as stupid now as it did then."

Thrown off balance by her vehemence, Booth looked confused. "Buffy," he said softly. "What's the matter? Why is this so important to you?"

Her eyes closed, and she swallowed hard, desperately trying and failing to fight back her sudden tears. "It's important because time isn't a given, Seeley." Her hazel eyes glistened brightly with unshed tears. "It's a gift," she whispered softly. "Because one day you might wake up and realize nothing's left because some higher power has decided, 'hey you deserve to be miserable'…" Booth pulled her closer, the pain rolling off her was making senses he didn't even know he had stand up and take notice. Her fingers clutched at his shirt and it took every ounce of her Slayer-willpower not to cling to him and sob like a baby. He was a beautiful sight for her sore eyes, and she wanted to hold on to him with everything she had. She leaned back in his arms and cupped his jaw lightly. "Listen to me…" she said urgently, drowning in those liquid pools of dark chocolate. "I don't want to ever lose those precious seconds again. I learned the hard way that a few seconds can mean all the difference in the world. I can't repeat those same mistakes—I won't," she said, determinedly. "This thing with us…it's fast, but I think you feel how right it is—like I do."

He hugged her to him, kissing the top of her head gently. "Buffy, who did you lose?" he asked softly—soothingly.

She _so_ didn't want this to turn into a pity party, but she wasn't going to lie either. She pulled out of his embrace. "I lost someone I loved because I didn't want to take the leap and give us another chance at happiness." He started to say something, but Buffy held up her hand. "It wasn't recent. He died three years ago, but…I haven't felt the same since. I haven't felt a connection…" She raised huge long-lashed green eyes up to his face and let him see her need--her desire. "Until now," she breathed softly, sliding her tongue along the full curve of her bottom lip.

It was his undoing. Something about that look—those eyes, her pout, the tongue…all of it—or maybe it was just Buffy, whatever it was, it brought out every protective, alpha-male instinct in him, and with a low growl of surrender his mouth came crashing down on hers.

****Palomar Hotel:****

Dawn was climbing the walls. Buffy had been gone over two hours and while she wanted her sister's 'date' with Angel—no—Booth, to go well, she wasn't too keen on being cramped up in this hotel all day either. Bored, she picked up the remote and slouched back on the couch to watch some T.V. She was flipping through channels when her phone jingled. She grabbed it, thinking it was Buffy. "So how's the date with Angel, going?"

"So are the rumors I'm hearing are true? The 'great Poof' really is alive and kicking still?"

Dawn squealed. "Spike! Oh my God!"

He chuckled. "Hello to you too, Niblit."

Dawn grinned, her spirits rising considerably. "I've missed you—you won't believe what's happened—we found Angel, and you're right…he is alive, and by alive I don't mean the 'un-dead all grrr' kind of alive, I mean, 'honest too-goodness-alive and breathing-kind of alive'!"

The line was silent for a moment and Spike growled. "Bloody hell, you mean that Shanshu Prophecy was legit?"

Dawn frowned. "Um…what Shanshu Prophecy?"

"Never mind—I thought that was all some made up ploy by Eve and Lindsey…" He paused and another growl sounded. "Figures…everything was always about him. Damn, knew I shoulda jumped on that dragon," he grumbled and Dawn was totally confused.

"Spike, what the hell are you talking about?"

He sighed. "Not a bleedin thing you need to worry about, Bit. So…where's the Slayer?" He sounded so hopeful, Dawn felt sad as she realized he was still carrying his torch for Buffy.

"She's having lunch with Booth."

There was more silence and then Spike chuckled. "Booth? Who the bloody hell is Booth and what's Peaches got to say about her dating some other bloke after she's practically scoured the world lookin for him?"

Dawn giggled. "Booth is Angel, Spike. The Powers That Be made him human—gave him a new identity and everything."

"Hold on—you mean they took away his mind? Made him forget he was ever Angel or Angelus?"

"Yep. Buffy was sad at first, but I think she's okay with it now because he smiles more." Dawn got up and got herself a soda out of the small fridge. "So where are you? What have you been doing since Rome? Come on spill—I've missed you."

"Well, I traveled a bit…you know—needed to get my bearings after L.A." He sighed. "Dru found me in London. She was a mess. Not feeding or anything. Said she felt her 'Daddy' go poof. I tried to help her, but I couldn't…" He paused and Dawn could feel the sadness in him through the phone.

"What happened, Spike?"

"She greeted the sun a couple weeks ago. I guess she lost too much—me, Angelus…Darla. It was too much for her." He let out another sigh. "She wasn't the sanest bird to begin with, you know?"

"Yeah, I know," Dawn replied. "Still…I'm sorry, Spike. I know you cared for her—even if she was evil."

"Yeah, I cared…" he agreed softly, before abruptly changing the subject back to Buffy and Angel. "Okay, so tell me more about what happened with Angel. I don't feel the 'Poof' anymore, and I could always feel the big lummox if he was close, so are you sure it's him?"

"Yeah, we're—wait a minute. Did you say close?" He chuckled and Dawn's brow shot up. "Spike, where are you?"

A knock sounded at her door.

"Answer your door, pet," he said, still laughing softly.

Dawn let out a happy cry and rushed to the door. She flung it open and there he stood, cell phone in hand, looking just like he had the last time she saw him. She squealed again and threw herself into his arms. "Oh my God, what are you doing here?"

He hugged her back. "I had to see for myself if me old Sire managed to get himself resurrected. Plus," he said smiling as she stepped back. He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "I missed you."

Dawn flushed. "I missed you too. Wait until—hold up a minute…you're not here to try and get in between Buffy and Booth are you?" she asked suspiciously.

Spike's face took on a look of innocence she knew was no where close to his real personality. "Me? Now why would I do that?" he asked, but his wicked smile belied his words and Dawn scowled at him.

"Don't even think about it, Spike. I swear she might come out of retirement and stake you!"

"So that's true too? She really hasn't been slaying?"

Dawn shrugged. "Oh she still does small patrols here and there, she's Buffy…it's who she is, but as far as working for the powers…or the new Council…then no. She's on her own. She won't even speak to Giles."

Spike nodded. "Yeah, I saw him when I was in London. The old Watcher looks like he's aged ten years since she's cut him out of her life. Almost felt sorry for the bloke."

Dawn frowned and her blue eyes blazed. "Well, don't. He lied to Buffy—lied to Angel and he's part of the reason I almost lost my sister when Angel died, so don't feel sorry for any of them," she growled, protective of Buffy above all others. "Xander told her to get over it already, and Willow actually told Buffy she couldn't let Angel's death change her!" Dawn looked like a tiger protecting her cub, and Spike suddenly wondered when she'd grown up and had taken on the role of protecting Buffy, rather than vice-versa. "Like that isn't the pot calling the kettle black, right? I think we all remember what Willow did when_ she_ lost someone she loved, huh?"

"Right," Spike agreed. None of Buffy's little Scooby friends' reactions surprised him though. They'd always been selfish as far as he was concerned. Supporting Buffy until she did something they didn't like then they'd turn on her.

Dawn was still pacing, ranting really. "At least Buffy didn't go evil Buffy and start tracking them all down ready to torture or kill, so seriously Spike—I have no sympathy for any of them…they made their bed…now they can lie in it."

He agreed. "Well, I didn't bring any of them with me, so do I get to stay?" he teased.

Dawn smiled and hugged him again. Suddenly she realized the sun was shining brightly outside and she gave him a quick once over. "How did you get up here without blankets or fire?"

He smirked. "Underground parking…"

****Booth's place:****

They burst into the house kissing wildly and tearing at each other's clothes before the door was even closed.

"Can't remember ever feeling this worked up," Booth gasped as he pulled her sweater over her head.

"I know, I need you so badly," Buffy panted as she pushed the jacket off his wide shoulders and dragged his T-shirt over his head. Her eyes drank in his muscled chest as she tossed the shirt behind her without a thought as to where it landed. She took a moment to admire the new tan along with the muscles he'd developed since she'd last seen him shirtless. "God, you're beautiful," she breathed and leaned forward to place a wet kiss on his chest. "Always wanted you—never stopped," she said, gripping the waistband of his jeans and tugging him closer to her overheated body.

Booth growled as she kissed and nipped her way across the broad expanse of his chest, before pausing to swirl her tongue around one flat male nipple. "Damn, that's hot…" he purred, tunneling his fingers through her soft hair. His head fell back and he let out a masculine growl when she took a gentle bite out of first one pebbled tip, then the other. "Buffy," he gasped, when her hand slid down the front of his jeans and she brazenly cupped his erection. "Are you sure you want this? I don't mind waiting," he offered, as always a gentleman, but to be honest he was almost desperately hoping she'd say she wanted this—him, just as badly as he wanted her.

Buffy was done waiting—she'd waited ten long years to have him like this again, not counting the time he was human, she needed this—needed him, now. "I don't need any more time to know I want you, Seeley. I knew I wanted you the second I laid eyes on you—it was instinctual. Making me wait right now would only be cruel," she teased, blinking those big green eyes up at him as she licked her lips seductively and slid her hand down the front of his jeans to touch him more intimately.

"Jesus," he breathed, trembling under her ministrations. His eyes darkened, and his dominant personality asserted itself when he grabbed her wrist and stopped her from stroking him off. He had a hell of a lot more finesse than coming in his pants like a little-boy. He pulled her hand out of his pants and did what he'd wanted to do since he laid eyes on her; he grabbed her around the waist, tossed her over his shoulder and headed towards his bedroom.

Her world suddenly tilted upside down. "Oh my God! Cave-man much?" she said breathlessly. She let out a squeal when he slapped her bottom playfully. "What are you doing?" she asked, still laughing, not at all minding his show of dominance—it was kind of a turn on actually. "Ooh…" she breathed, when she realized they were in his bedroom. A tremble went through her as it hit her that she was about to have sex with the man (or body) she'd obsessed over since she was sixteen years old.

He was still Angel in some ways, but not in others. Buffy recognized Booth's confidence. Something Angel hadn't had until later. But he had Angel's passion for her, something they could indulge in now. Her liquid heat unfurled in her belly, and she knew if he was still a vamp, he'd be able to scent how turned on she was right now.

He tossed her onto his bed and she let out another breathless squeal as she bounced once before coming to a rest, sprawled out on his bed like an offering. His eyes were almost black with lust, and Buffy shuddered. She leaned up on her elbows, brushed her hair out of her eyes and met his dark eyed gaze. "Now that's what I call making up your mind," she said, giggling when he gave a growl reminiscent of her lost Angel, grabbed her ankles and pulled her to him.

"You're beautiful," he whispered, tugging off her boots. "I can't wait anymore—something about you…I don't know what it is, but it's like I've been waiting for you to show up." He frowned. "Weird, huh?"

Buffy didn't find it weird at all. It made her heart soar. "No, not weird. It's good—so very of the good," she moaned as he efficiently got her nearly naked without pausing in the hot, open-mouthed kisses he placed along her neck and ears. He was almost _too_ good at that, she noticed, but the thought was gone as quickly as it appeared when his fingers slipped between her thighs. He gently rubbed her there and Buffy almost came undone. "Oh God!" she cried, arching off the bed under him. "Yes—please!" Her legs spread of their own volition and she panted under him as he slid her panties down her thighs and tossed them over his shoulder.

His huge hands ran up her inner thighs pushing them further apart. He leaned down and took first one nipple, then the other into his mouth. Buffy wrapped her arms around his head as his talented mouth suckled her breasts, alternating between hard forceful tugs of his mouth and gentle sucking. It was so good, within minutes she was writhing under him, aching for more.

"Beautiful," he breathed, raising his head. He quickly shed the rest of his own clothes, and Buffy's hungry green eyes devoured his perfect body as he situated himself between her spread thighs. He was sleeker, more leanly muscled than he was as Angel. His abs looked like she could bounce a quarter off them, that was new, but what wasn't new, was the size of his penis. Proudly, it jutted from his body, large and thick, and Buffy's mouth watered as she thought of tasting him.

He smirked when he noticed her eyes were glued to his cock. "Patience, love…" he murmured as he gripped her hips and pulled her forward. "I want to taste you first," he said, lowering his head towards her mound. Buffy felt a blush suffuse her whole body as he gave a soft purring sound and inhaled deeply. "You smell like heaven," he whispered, his mouth inches from the pouting lips of her swollen sex.

Angel had said the same thing, and Buffy felt her heart clench for just a moment before she pushed it away. She'd never thought to see his beloved face again, much less make love with him—basking didn't even come close to how amazingly happy she felt. A heartbeat—maybe two passed before she felt his fingers part the folds of her labia and she held her breath until it left her in a *whoosh* as she felt the first touch of his tongue.

"Oh God!" she gasped, her hands automatically going down to grip his head. "Yes-yes-yes!" she whimpered, burying her fingers in his short hair and holding him there.

He chuckled softly, but took control again, easing a finger inside her as his tongue swirled around her clitoris, using his saliva as lubrication as he went to work on her bringing her to climax. He alternated between gentle taps and light sucking pulls on that distended bundle of nerves until Buffy was a shivering mass of raw sensation. If she'd had any doubts he was Angel—they were erased the moment he touched her. No two people made love exactly the same and Seeley had the skills of a man far beyond his age—more like two hundred plus years of experience and Buffy was suddenly transported back in time to a cold rainy night when the love of her life had brought her to three screaming orgasms before he actually took her virginity.

"Angel!" she cried, without meaning to, as she went over the edge and into mind numbing bliss.

Booth raised his head and grinned. "I've been called a lot of things, but I don't think anyone has ever called me an angel," he said, but his smirk was trade-mark Angel and Buffy played it off with a well satisfied shrug.

"Well, I thought I was shooting to heaven, so it seemed fitting," she whispered breathlessly, not really surprised that she'd called out Angel's name. But as she watched his eyes dance—saw the sparkle there, she knew she was already falling for Booth, maybe even harder than she had for Angel. He had everything Angel had, but without the bad things, like the threat of a psychopathic demon bursting out and hunting her down just to amuse himself.

Plus, Booth didn't hate himself, he may regret some of the things in his life, but it was nowhere near the self flagellation Angel had imposed on himself. Buffy kissed him, tasting herself on his lips. "I want you—inside me—now," she said, using just a tad of her Slayer strength to pull him to her.

A bit stunned at her strength, Booth fell on top of her. "Damn you're strong for such a tiny thing," he commented, but he wasn't complaining. Buffy was full of surprises, this was just another puzzle about her he wanted to uncover.

"Please," she begged, wrapping her thighs around his hips and shamelessly rubbing herself against him.

Booth reached down and guided himself to her wet opening. He had no more doubts—this just felt right, like he'd waited forever for her. "Look at me," he demanded.

Buffy raised heavy lidded eyes. "I see you—I've always seen you," she whispered.

A deep growl rumbled in his chest and with a swift push of his hips he embedded himself deep inside her, completely filling her with one thrust. Their simultaneous gasps of pleasure were loud in the silence of the room.

Booth clenched his eyes shut as her internal muscles seemed to swell and ripple around him like nothing he'd ever felt. Stars were bursting behind his closed lids and he desperately fought not to lose complete control and come inside her. He'd never imagined a woman could have the kind of muscles Buffy was squeezing him with, but it was amazing and he took several deep calming breaths until he felt safe to move inside her without embarrassing himself.

When he started a smooth gliding rhythm inside her, Buffy swallowed back the words that wanted to tumble forth. It was too soon to spout her love for him. Instead she closed her eyes, wrapped her legs tighter around his lean waist, and savored the riotous feeling of being back in the place where she'd been happiest—in the arms of this man.

This time, when she was flung over the cliff and into orgasm, the name she screamed out was "Seeley."

Her name burst from him soon thereafter as he tossed his head back and emptied himself inside her.

A few hours and many, many orgasms later…

Booth relaxed against the headboard of his bed. Buffy was cuddled up on his chest, and it felt like she'd always been there. He'd never felt so relaxed after sex. Suddenly his eyes shot open and he almost gasped out loud when it hit him that he'd never even thought to use a condom with her. He swallowed hard. Buffy robbed him of all coherent thought, and to a man like Booth, that loss of control was frightening, but when she snuggled into his chest and told him how wonderfully numb she felt, he felt his body unwind again. He instinctively knew she wasn't the casual sex type, so catching something wasn't even on his radar, but pregnancy—now that was.

An image of having a baby with Buffy flashed through his head and to his utter shock it didn't light a fire in his pants, along with the urge to sneak out of bed and get as far away from her as he could get. Normally the thought of getting a woman pregnant would scare the shit out of him—he had Parker and he was a good father, but he wasn't sure if he was ready or wanted more children. But Buffy was different and he knew as bizarre as it sounded he had no doubt that he was falling in love with her.

His arms tightened around her and he pulled her closer to him, as if scared she'd be gone if he loosened his hold. He'd never felt like this, so he had no experience with how to deal, but he knew whatever happened, Buffy belonged with him—_to him_, he added with more possessiveness than he'd ever felt towards a woman before.

He shook his head. Where had that come from? He was an alpha-male, no doubt about it, but he'd never considered himself a cave-man before, but Buffy brought out the animalistic side of him—Bones would call it 'his anthropological need to dominate his partner' and she'd rationalize it and boil it down to pure primal needs of the species. He rolled his eyes, wishing he'd actually paid more attention to his partner's words in conversations like that because, despite his brain telling him it was impossible, he found himself getting very more and more 'anthropological' where Buffy was concerned…

****Okay guys, click the button and feed the review whore that is my musie. remember, the more you feed her--the more she feeds me!! :) :) :)****


	5. Chapter 5

**Still His Girl**

**A fic by: Angel's blue eyed girl **

**Rating: Definite M**

**Disclaimer: *cries*—I own none of the characters of Bones or Buffy, so don't sue me, I just feel the need to play with them! **

**A/N: First I want to say thank you to Amber who beta read this for me. You are simply the best babe, and I love you bunches! give a shout out to some of my fave authors here on fanfic: uskohakuchan (Amber), Vixangel, Helmi-1, jaymartinez, frosty 600, elaine451, Esmerada007, bangel'stheonlywaytogo, lilcatfish, Seeley'sangel, Kay8abc, Brandi Rochon, SSJL, ChynaFox, ashes to midnight, OyHumbug, and the Lady Black Dove200. All these authors have some amazing B/A or Bones fics out there.**

**Now as always thank you so much to the readers. The ones who R&R on a regular basis. I love you all bunches and bunches. Seriously, without your support, musie would probably leave me high and dry. :) So again thank you for the feedback and encouragement. It means a lot to me.**

**Now enough of Jen's babble…on with the chappie, right??**

**Xoxo**

**Jen**

Chappie 5

**Booth's bedroom.**

Booth's eyes shot open as his cell phone began to ring. He was disorientated, but not enough that he disturbed a sleeping Buffy, who was sprawled on top of him with one of her curvy legs thrown over his, an arm around his waist and her head pillowed on his chest.

Gently, he eased out from under her and grabbed his phone, hitting the mute button before it woke up her up. He barely managed to roll out of bed without falling off it completely as he reached for his boxers. Buffy turned over in her sleep, and he forgot all about answering his phone as her naked breasts were exposed to him. She was so sexy—he felt his body respond, and he was about to slide back into bed when the phone suddenly rang again. He jumped, hit the mute button again and hurried for the bathroom, stubbing his toe in the process. He cursed softly as he snatched up his underwear and shut the door. He flipped on the light, put the phone to his ear and slipped his boxers on.

"Booth," he whispered into the phone, still wincing at the pain radiating from his big toe.

"Booth?" Brennan asked.

"Yeah, Bones it's me. What's up?"

"Why are you whispering?"

"I'm—" His mind was blank. he wasn't at all prepared to have Bones turn her analytical eye on him and disect his personal life. "No reason," he answered, talking a little louder, trying to sound normal. "So, what's up?" he asked, listening to Bones, but keeping an open ear for any signs that Buffy was getting up.

"Nothing. I was just wondering when you were coming back?" Bones asked.

He smirked. "What, aren't you playing nice with Sully?"

"No, it's not that. It's…I'm just not sure how serious he is about his job. He doesn't take notes like you do—he doesn't help like you do, and he seems to be irresponsibly lackadaisical about his career as an F.B.I. Agent. He was looking into buying a boat when we were in Florida," she said, and he could almost hear her brows drawing down. Temperance Brennan took her job—life in general actually, very seriously.

It made him feel good that she missed him, but Sully was a good agent and he didn't want her to get frustrated with him. "Look Bones, he's one of the best, alright? He just likes to keep his options open is all," he said.

Brennan snorted. "Yeah, I noticed," she shot back.

Booth chuckled huskily, until he heard Buffy call his name from the bedroom. His voice lowered again. "Listen Bones, Sully lost his partner about a year ago and when something like that happens—it makes that internal clock tick just a little bit faster and louder." He heard the sounds of rustling coming from the other side of the door and knew Buffy was getting out of bed. "I gotta go—just know I wouldn't leave you in anything but the best of hands, okay? I promise."

Brennan looked surprised at the way he was rushing her off the phone. "Um—okay," she said, frowning when the line suddenly clicked off. She closed it with a soft snap and wondered at Booth's abrupt disconnection of their conversation. "That was…different," she mused. Zack knocked on the glass door to her office, bringing her attention away from Booth and back to her work.

He pushed open the door. "Dr. Brennan, I thought you'd want to know that we found bits of gold imbedded deep within the bite marks along the T-11 and T-12 vertebrae," the young assistant said.

"Alright, Zack, I'll be right there," she said, grabbing her lab coat before following him into the Medico-legal lab. Her partner's odd behavior was forgotten as the case at hand grabbed her attention again.

****Booth's place****

The bathroom door suddenly opened and Booth whipped about to see Buffy standing there with nothing but a sheet wrapped around her tiny body. She looked sleepy and well satisfied with her hair tumbling wildly around her face and down her back. His fake smile faded only to be replaced by a genuine look of hunger. "Damn, you look sexy wrapped in my sheet," he muttered, reaching out to grab her hand. He pulled her into the bathroom. "Want to take a shower with me?" he asked as he spun her so that her curvy rear was pressed against him. He palmed her belly, spreading his hand wide so that encompassed her entire midsection almost. "I'll wash your back," he offered, nibbling at that spot on her neck he'd found that sent her screaming into orgasm.

"Who were you talking to?" Buffy asked, mewling with delight as he nipped at her scar and pressed his ever-ready erection against her backside.

"Bones," he replied. "She was kind of freaking out about Sully, the Agent handling this case with her, and I didn't want to wake you…so I came in here. You looked so peaceful…" he murmured, kissing her neck again. He laved the puckered bit of flesh on her throat until she whimpered, clutched his head, and pressed his mouth harder against that spot. "Buffy," he growled, and bit down, smiling when she shattered in his hands.

Panting, Buffy rode out the quick, explosive orgasm he'd just given her. She'd never willingly let anyone, but Angel, touch that spot. It was further proof to her that he had some Angel memories buried somewhere in his psyche when he'd unerringly found the scar_ he'd_ given her, and had continued to pay a special amount of attention to it. He'd kissed, sucked and bitten it until she'd climaxed. Almost as if he knew what that mark signified for her. He may not be fang-y like Angel, but…she sighed dreamily, he could still make her come with nothing but his teeth.

"You, wet and naked _and_ a back-wash?" she asked as she wrapped her arms up and around his neck while he hugged her from behind. "Now that's an offer no sane woman would turn down," she said giggling when he growled and pulled the sheet from her body.

They'd been going at it for hours, but the need was still there. Burning in him, like he wanted to stake a claim on her, and he didn't understand where the cave-man attitude came from, but he was helpless to deny it. It was just there. Maybe Bones was right with all her anthropological crap, because as far as Buffy was concerned he'd regressed into a primitive, possessive being he barely recognized anymore.

He pressed another heated kiss to her neck. "Is that what we've been today…sane?"

"Nooo, probably not," Buffy agreed with a soft, satisfied laugh. "But if this is crazy…" she said, turning in his arms and looping her hands around his neck. "Then I'm all for the insane, because it sure beats the hell out of lonely old sanity any day of the week," she teased, running her fingers through the short hairs at the nape of his neck.

He agreed wholeheartedly. "How about that shower?" he asked, breathlessly. He moaned softly when her hands began to roam his body, arousing him to a fever pitch all over again.

"Mmmmm," Buffy sighed, as her hand slithered into his boxers and wrapped around his erect penis. "Were we talking?" she asked innocently.

He groaned and gave in to the near constant desire he felt in her presence. He wrapped a hand in her hair and kissed her deeply while his other hand reached into the shower and flipped on the faucets. When the water was sufficiently heated, he backed her into the shower. Buffy glanced down and laughed when she noticed he'd gotten in with his boxers still on. Booth looked down. The wet cotton was clinging to his erect cock and the weight of the soggy material was causing his penis to jut straight out, rather than ride up high on his flat belly like it usually did.

Buffy gave a soft little sigh as her eyes drifted over him. He was big, and hard. She moaned because she already knew how good that was going to feel inside her. "Mmmmm," she purred, licking her lips and trailing her nails down the rippling muscles of his abdomen. "You look yummy wet and half naked, but I think you'll look even better with these…" She took hold of the elastic waistband of the boxers, "…off," she said, licking her lips again as she tugged them down enough to free his straining erection.

Booth couldn't agree more, and practically tore the soft cotton when he yanked the dripping boxers the rest of the way off and tossed them over the shower curtain. Neither noticed or cared when they landed on the pristine white tiled floor with a soft plop.

"Okay, now where were we?" he growled.

Buffy grinned, but her look turned heated when he hefted her tiny frame up and pressed her against the cool tiles of the shower. There was no need for preliminaries. The heat between them was so hot—the need so strong—they both wanted the same thing—him inside her as soon as possible. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, clinging to him as she felt the tip of his penis nudge her dripping core. "Yes…" she hissed; spreading her thighs wider as she wrapped her legs around his hips. "I think we were right about…" He entered her, sliding all the way inside easily. "Oh God! There," she gasped, clinging to him as he began a gentle rhythm inside her that she knew from experience would turn hard and dominating before he was through. She closed her eyes and let him take her to heaven. "Make love to me, Seeley…" she murmured softly, sliding her fingers into his hair, while burying her face in his neck.

And he did. Again and again, until Buffy was sure she was going to be the first Slayer ever to die from multiple orgasms.

**England:**

Giles listened to the newest report on Buffy and shook his head. "That simply cannot be. Angel is dead. He was dusted in the fight in Los Angeles. Too many people saw it for it not to be true."

Pictures landed on his desk and Giles picked them up and gasped. "But he's—" He glanced up at the Council operative. "These were taken outside—in the sun. This can't be Angel."

"We have it on the best authority, this_ is_ Angelus." The operative handed Giles another batch of pictures. They were of Buffy with the handsome ex-vampire. "Sent to me via email an hour ago." He pointed to the ones of them kissing. "These were taken earlier today." The man's dark eyes met Giles' gaze. "She's there, and she's still obsessed with him."

"I'm not sure I understand," Giles murmured. "If he isn't a vampire anymore, why does the council care? He must have gotten the Shanshu that Wesley told me about. He was mentioned in the Prophecy of Aberjian, you know? This must have been his reward."

The man scoffed. "A reward?!" He shook his head chidingly at Giles. "Mr. Giles, surely you don't believe one of the most vicious vampire's in recorded history deserves anything but a stake in his heart, much less a reward of humanity?"

Giles looked away and harrumphed uncomfortably. "Well, no, of course not, but as I was saying…if he isn't a vampire anymore, why do we care?"

"Because once a monster—always a monster and now he has the Slayer under his spell again—this cannot be left to fester like it did the first time. It must be dealt with swiftly."

Giles glanced up sharply. "What have you done?"

"Something you should have ten years ago. We've sent a team to eliminate Angelus. You have a choice here, Mr. Giles—if you can get your Slayer out of the picture, you can save her, if not our orders are to take her out too."

Giles eyes widened in shock. "B-but you—you can't do that!" he sputtered.

"We can, and we will because even the chance that Angelus still lives in this creature is too great a risk for the Council to take. If you can convince Miss Summers to remove herself from his side, she will be spared, but if you in any way warn her of the plan for Angelus, it will result in your immediate arrest as a traitor to the Council." The man nodded. "Good day to you sir," he said and left Giles alone with a huge headache and no real way out of the mess he now found himself in.

He took his glasses off, polished them and slipped them back on before getting out his address book and flipping through it until he had found the number he was looking for. He knew what he was about to do would get him at best fired, at worst arrested as the Council goon had just threatened, but he could not allow this plan to go any further. He'd let Buffy down too many times already—he wouldn't fail her again. He dialed a number. When it was answered on the third ring, he sighed and asked, "Willow, I have an enormous favor to ask of you. Would you please meet me for lunch tomorrow?"

**Dr. Wyatt's Backyard:**

Booth's phone rang. He smiled when he saw it was Buffy. He'd only dropped her back at her car an hour ago, but it felt longer. "Are you missing me already too?" he asked instead of saying 'hello' or 'Booth'.

She giggled. "Am I that obvious?"

"No, it's just I was feeling the same way," he said huskily. "Where are you?"

Buffy giggled again. "I just left a little boutique that specializes in naughty lingerie, why?" she asked innocently.

He closed his eyes as if in pain, and let out a soft groan. "You're killing me, you know that, right?"

Her response was another happy little laugh. There was a moment of delicious silence as they both pictured what she'd bought. Booth of course was going purely on red-blooded-male-fantasy of lacy teddies and garter belts with high heels.

"So…what did you buy?" he asked gruffly, lowering his voice while keeping one eye on the back door of Dr. Wyatt's house lest he be caught out here practically having phone sex with his—what? Was she his girlfriend? He tucked that thought away, and went back to visualizing her purchases.

"Well…is it really fair to tell you when you can't really see me in them yet?" she teased.

He was practically panting now. "Not really, but the visual will get me through the rest of the day until I can see for myself," he cajoled, a broad grin spreading across his face.

Buffy pondered pulling over. Talking to him like this was turning her on, and she wasn't the best driver under good circumstances, but she was so close to the hotel, and Dawn had already been worried enough when Buffy had called her from the lingerie store. She struggled to keep her rising lust for Seeley from distracting her too badly as she headed for her hotel. "Okay…" she said, giving in to the sexual game of 'show and tell'. "The first outfit I got is a red leather corset number, with matching thong panties, stockings, and red lacy garter belt—oh and heels to match." She heard his low growl and her smile widened. "Five inch heels actually…" she said breathlessly, feeling the wet heat in her belly unfurl at the sounds he was making.

It was even better than he'd imagined and Booth let out another deeper groan. "Jesus Christ…" he whispered, then silently apologized for taking the Lord's name in vain along with all the sinful thoughts rushing through his mind as he pictured her in an outfit like that. He adjusted himself in his jeans as his body hardened almost painfully, until he had an image of Dr. Wyatt finding him out here on the phone with a hard-on. A bucket of ice water couldn't have been any more effective. "Um…maybe we should wait until you can show me later," he said softly. He glanced at the back door again, praying that Dr. Wyatt would wait just a few more minutes before coming back with their damned tea. "I'm at the shrink's and the last thing I want him writing down in that little book of his is that I'm some kind of deviant."

Buffy chuckled huskily as she pulled into the underground garage at the hotel. "Tell him you're spoken for," she teased, laughing harder at his growl. "Okay—I can wait—for a little bit. I already miss you though," she murmured, aching for him in a way that stunned her considering she'd just spent nearly an entire day in bed with him.

He missed her too, but decided to avoid telling her _how much_ he missed her might be best, considering where he was at the moment. He leaned back against the nearly completed Bar-B-Q pit he'd built. "So, was your sister freaked out when you called her?" he asked, instead.

"She was worried, but…" Buffy got quiet because there was no way to explain that Dawn was used to her taking off at all hours of the night. "Well, she figured things had gone good between us, and didn't want to ruin it by calling."

He chuckled. "Remind me to thank her later."

Buffy flushed. "Don't you dare," she said, laughing softly. Her laughter ended abruptly when she saw the blue 68 Camaro parked in one of her designated spots. Stunned, she spoke without thinking. "No way, what the hell is he doing here? Figures…" she muttered.

"What the hell is _who_ doing there?" She didn't answer and he frowned. "Buff? What's wrong?"

She was getting used to him calling her Buff, but the first time he'd called her that, she'd almost leaped from the bed—only Angelus had ever called her that. She stared at the car. It sure looked like the one Spike had been driving the last time she'd seen him. He'd said it had been the spoils of war from Wolfram & Hart, or something like that.

"Um…nothing, it's just someone is parked in my space is all—nothing to worry about. Nope nothing at all," she babbled. "Hey, why don't I meet you for dinner instead of you coming here to pick me up?"

Booth's frown deepened. She sounded seriously agitated. "Buffy what's wrong? And don't tell me it's someone parked in your spot either, because my gut is telling me that's not it."

Buffy's face scrunched up into a pout/scowl. Figures he'd kept his way too intuitive nature despite having no memory of her or their past. She let out a long sigh. "Fine, but it's really nothing… it looks like I might have a visitor…someone from my past, okay? But like I said, it's nothing to—"

"I'm on my way," he growled out.

"Booth, wait! You don't need to rush over here. He's not dangerous—just annoying really and—"

Jealousy warred with worry for her. "_He_—so it's a _him? _Is this _him_ an ex-boyfriend or what?"

"More like an 'or what' than an ex-boyfriend," she replied."Look, it is—was complicated, and I wasn't expecting him is all," she said, trying to downplay Spike's and her relationship.

"Was this guy abusive? Did he ever hit you?"

Her pause spoke volumes, and Booth was suddenly a hell of a lot more than jealous. He was worried about her safety, and the longer she was quiet, the more upset he became until he was bordering on frantic. He'd seen too many cases of women stalked, beaten or worse by exes that wouldn't let go. There was no way in hell he was going to let anything happen to Buffy. "Stay where you are, Buffy. I mean it—don't go upstairs until I get there," he demanded.

Wishing she'd just kept quiet, Buffy reluctantly agreed. She didn't have it in her to fight with him about this, and if Spike was indeed here then she might as well get this meeting over and done with because she knew the blond vampire too well to think it was just a coincidence that he showed up now. No. He knew about Booth and he was here to either A: stir up trouble or B: just see for himself if it was true. Buffy hoped it was the latter.

****A minute later****

Gordon, Gordon Wyatt came out of the house a tray of tea in his hands just as Booth hung up the phone.

"Sorry doc, change of plans. I need to go," the agent said, shoving his phone into his pocket.

The doctor's eyes narrowed imperceptibly, "You seem upset. You aren't running off to shoot anyone, are you?"

Booth glanced over his shoulder at him and frowned. "What? No!" He patted at his waist and scowled when he realized he didn't even have his gun. He did have his back-up weapon in his truck though. "No," he said again, this time with a lot less agitation. Wouldn't do to have the shrink saying he took off to shoot someone. "It's just—it's Buffy, she needs my help, so we're gonna have to reschedule this little trip inside my head until tomorrow, okay?" he said clearly in a near desperate hurry to be gone.

"Buffy?" Dr. Wyatt said, raising a brow. "Would this be the woman you had a date with yesterday?"

Booth shifted from foot to foot. He needed to get out of here, but he didn't want the doc to think he was running off half-cocked either. "Yeah, that's her," he replied. His look was impatient as he kept his worry for Buffy at bay. "Look, I know we had an appointment, but this really can't wait," he said, motioning with his hands his need to leave.

Dr. Wyatt realized it would be fruitless to disagree, so he nodded. "Very well, same time tomorrow then?"

Booth's smile was relieved. "Yeah, sure thing," he called back as jogged over to his SUV.

**Dr. Temperance Brennan's office:**

Brennan and Sullivan were going over their victims waiver form.

"Look at this, it's a joke," Brennan said. She pointed to Judy's signature. "Look at her signature. She must have been intoxicated when she signed this."

Sullivan nodded, but he looked un-surprised. "I think most of them are," he murmured.

"That still doesn't make it right," Brennan grumbled.

A delivery man came in then carrying a bag and some drinks. Sullivan paid the guy, tossed Brennan a sandwich and un-wrapped his.

"What is this?" she asked holding up the sandwich.

Sully took a huge bite. "Only the finest sausage and peppers on earth," he said, mouth full, and a look of pleasure on his face. "Go ahead try it," he said, taking another huge mouthful. "Hey maybe I'll start a franchise of these," he said, still chewing.

Brennan began to un-wrap the hot sandwich. "I thought you were buying a boat," she remarked.

Sullivan shrugged. "I am, but maybe I'll open a charter service and serve these to my guests while we're cruising to Jamaica," he said grinning.

Brennan gave him a disapproving look. He certainly had a lot of ideas, but did he have a purpose? She took a bite of the sandwich, and smiled as she chewed. "Mmmm, good," she commented, after swallowing.

"No, the word you're looking for is great," Sullivan replied. "You know? Maybe I'll even manage a band—they can play on my charter boat…Music and good food on the high seas…Yeah, I could go for that."

Brennan frowned. She wasn't sure how seriously to take him. "Don't you like being an F.B.I. Agent?"

"Sure I do. I just don't want it to be the only thing I ever was." He studied her. "I mean, look at Booth…" Brennan's brows drew down as she waited for what he had to say. "For a guy like him, being an F.B.I. Agent is all he is—now he doesn't have that and he's kind of lost." He sighed. "I just don't ever want to feel that—or maybe I'm not as dedicated as he is…" he shrugged again. "I don't know."

Brennan was in the process of chewing, but she shook her head. She washed down her bite with a sip of soda. "While I agree with your estimation of Booth's dedication, I disagree with your assumption that all he has is his career to define who he is. Booth is much more than just an F.B.I. Agent." Sullivan raised a brow and waited. "He's an excellent father, and he's a very good friend. He has strong ties to his religion, even if it doesn't make sense to me—_he_ believes, and it gives him a sense of strength in that." She said it so matter of fact, Sullivan couldn't help but wonder if there was something between them. Brennan went on. "You're wrong when you say that he has only the F.B.I. to enrich his life, but it is an area he excels in. I believe the only reason he seems lost is because he isn't doing what he feels he should be doing, and that's his job." she stated firmly.

Sullivan put his sandwich down and approached her desk. He sat on the edge and played with the papers there. "So…I asked Booth before, but now I'm asking you—is there anything besides a professional relationship between you two?"

Bones looked surprised. "No. We don't have those kinds of feelings—it's purely a partnership, though I do respect his instincts and he respects who I am and what I do."

Sullivan looked overly pleased, and Brennan raised a suspicious brow at him. "Why?" she asked.

He gave her a little smile, shrugged and hopped off her desk. "Oh…no reason, just wanted to know is all."

Brennan looked doubtful, but just then Cam and Angela came into her office.

"The gold flakes are definitely from the liquor we found in her system," Cam stated, glancing from Sully to Brennan.

Angela brought up some pictures on the computer. "And then I remembered something…" She pointed to the screen.

"Monte and his harem," Bones said, not seeing the importance. "So what?"

Angela pointed to a particular spot on the screen as Cam said, "Check out the bottle and caption. All the girls love Monty's gold."

Brennan nodded, and a slow smile began to spread across her face. She glanced at Sully. "This could be probable cause," she said.

Sully grabbed his phone. "I'll get the warrant," he said, he was disappointed that their personal conversation lost for the time being, but after hearing from both Booth and Tempe that there was nothing between them other than a friendship/partnership the agent felt the field was clear for him to ask Brennan out after this case was over.

**The Palomar Hotel:**

"So she finally came up for air and called, eh?" Spike asked, lounging on Dawn's bed, drinking a mug full of blood with a bit Wheat-a-Bix added.

"Yeah, she should be here soon," Dawn replied, distractedly, her eyes glued to the T.V. "Now, stop talking and watch—this is a good part."

Spike scowled at the screen. "Come on, Bit—you know this is pure rot, don't you? Who the bloody hell ever heard of a vampire that sparkles in the sun? We're not a bunch of fairies, you know," he said, raising a brow at her. She ignored him and with a dramatic roll of his eyes, he reluctantly he went back to watching the movie. A minute later, he snorted again. "What happens when you stake one of em? Do they float away in a cloud of Tinker-Bell dust?" he quipped sarcastically.

He tried to grab the remote, but Dawn laughed and held it out of his reach. "Spike, this guy is making vampires hip again."

He snorted again. "Bugger that! Let's see the bloke go up against a vamp like me, then I'd say he was hip," he said, an arrogant smirk plastered across his face. He took another sip of his blood, rolled his eyes again when the characters started whining about why they couldn't be together. "What a wanker… why doesn't he just kiss the bint already? You know, this blighter is even more depressing than Angel—as a matter of fact, he makes Peaches look downright chipper," he grumbled. "Why are we watching this again? Isn't Passions on right about this time?" he whined.

Dawn giggled, but took pity on him and flipped the channel. "Whatever, but this movie sold over like a hundred million at the box office," she said as she sought out a show they'd both like.

"Yeah, and I'd bet most of that was teenage chits who wouldn't know a real vampire if I walked up and bit them on their little teeny-bopper necks. They want a romantic version of the truth—they don't want to think about the blood and the death."

Dawn frowned. "Um—yeah. Okay, changing the subject now," she said and found Passions. "There. Happy now?"

He grinned. "Are you sick of me already, Nibblit?"

"Not a chance," the young woman said. Spike was like a big brother to her and even when he was being annoying, his sharp wit was something she'd sorely missed. She settled in next to him and got into the show they'd watched together for years back in Sunnydale. "Did you see last week where Endora zapped the Scissor Sisters?" she asked, grabbing the box of Wheat-a-Bix and popping some into her mouth.

Spike nodded. "Yeah, but can you believe they bloody well killed off Rae?"

"I know, poor Simone," Dawn said. "Luis is the chief suspect too."

Spike took another sip of his blood. "I know. Uh-oh—here comes Ethan and Jared. You know they're due for a run in over Theresa…" he said, his eyes glued to the drama unfolding on the small screen. He flashed his 'devil-may-care' smirk. "Now _this_ is good T.V., Bit."

Dawn grinned. She wasn't sure how Buffy was going to react to having Spike here, but she was happy to see him. She'd missed him…more than she'd ever realized she would.

**Okay guys, hope you liked this chappie. Buffy & Booth are a blast to write, and I already have the next chappie done—Booth & Spike…hilarious. I know the timeline for Twilight is off—but—I just kept imagining Spike's reaction to that movie and had to write that scene. Lol! Hope you take it as it was written…campy fun. Sorry guys—not a big Rob Patz fan here—give me Angel/Angelus any day of the week! **

**Now you know the drill…feed my little beast of a muse, so she can feed me, alright? :) :) :)**


	6. Chapter 6

**Still His Girl **

**A fic by: Angel's blue eyed girl**

**Rating: M**

**Disclaimer: I own none of the Bones or BtVS characters. **

**Okay guys a short A/N this time because I'm feeling lazy today. lol! **

**As always I want to thank all of you who take the time to R&R even when you're busy or in a hurry—whatever, because it really is the feedback that inspire a writer, at least it's the reviews that get my musie up and off her ass! lol! So again, thank you very much. **

**Also I want to recommend you go to my profile for a list of some very good authors. All of them are faves of mine and have some amazing fics out there right now. :)**

**Okay, on with the chappie. Oh btw: This is un-beta'd, so any mistakes are all mine. Sorry, hope it's not too bad, but I wanted to get it posted, so I was impatient. :)**

**xoxo**

**Jen**

**Chappie 6**

**Underground garage at the Palomar:**

The tires on his SUV squealed as he whipped the big truck into the parking structure. Buffy rolled her eyes at the 'saving-the-damsel in distress-routine', but she guessed some things would never change, whether he was Angel or Booth; he would always came running if he thought she was in danger. Funny, how Seeley's protectiveness didn't rub her the wrong way like Angel's had, but then again, she wasn't _The Slayer_ anymore. To Seeley, she was just a normal girl. And after spending so many years worrying about everyone, and everything, but herself, it was nice to have someone wanting to protect_ her_ for a change. Actually, she could get used to this kind of attention even if she didn't need it.

Booth hopped out of the SUV. He was expecting her to be upset at his demanding she stay put. Bones would be furious, but to his relief, Buffy just looked amused, _and _apparently unharmed. He pulled her in for a quick hug, then held her out at arm's length and checked her over, head to toe, looking for anything that resembled an injury. "Are you okay? Where is this guy?" he asked, looking around warily.

She smirked. "I'm fine, and he isn't down here, so you really didn't need to rush over." He frowned, and Buffy forgave his over-protective attitude. She really was happy to see him, so what did it matter if he was acting the cave-man again? "But since it was sweet, and I missed you anyways…" She trailed her hands up his chest, to curl around his neck. Smiling up at him, she tunneled her fingers in the soft hairs at the nape of his neck and pulled his head down. "I'm feeling of the good with you being my 'knight-in-shining armor'," she murmured, and brushed his mouth with hers.

"I don't know about _'shining'_ armor—mine may be a bit tarnished," he replied, wrapping his arms around her. Their lips met once, twice, before the lust that lay between them flared to life, and with a low groan, Booth deepened the kiss. Their tongues mated wildly as he pulled her tight against his rapidly hardening body. Buffy leaped into his arms and wrapped her legs around his waist and returned his passion with her own desperate need. He turned them so that her back was pressed against the door of his SUV. "My God," he panted, unable to resist thrusting his hips forward. They both let out breathless moans as the hard ridge of his erection hit her wet center in just the right spot.

Buffy rubbed against him shamelessly, seeking the friction that would send her over the edge. "Seeley…please," she whimpered, gripping his shoulders and pulling him even closer.

His hand slid between her spread thighs and cupped her sex. Buffy gasped and arched into his palm. "Buffy, you drive me crazy," he said between gritted teeth, fighting to maintain some kind of control and not just take her here in a parking lot.

"Hey rooms are right upstairs—get one!" a voice suddenly called from somewhere in the parking lot, causing them both to freeze in embarrassment.

"Oh no," Buffy said, blushing furiously as she buried her face into Booth's heaving chest.

"Oh no is right," he grumbled. He felt like he was fourteen again, and getting caught under the bleachers with Vanessa Taylor. "A minute more and we'd have been bordering on indecent exposure," he said, letting her slide down his body. They broke apart, flushed and breathing heavily.

A few deep calming breaths later, Booth tilted her chin up and gave her a tender smile. "Hey, back to why I'm here. You never did answer my question earlier."

"What question?" Buffy asked huskily, willing her body to stop its throbbing ache.

He felt her desire, and it called to him. He leaned in, as she leaned up and then as if realizing what they were doing, they both drew back. "Don't look at me like that," he told her.

"That isn't a question," Buffy teased.

He rolled his eyes. "I asked you if he ever hit you?" he reminded her.

Buffy's brows drew down. She couldn't tell the truth because how could she explain that she and Spike had beaten the crap out of each other more times than she could count without him going ballistic? "Um…" She chewed at her bottom lip and looked away from his penetrating dark eyes. She was a rotten liar, and she knew it. How had she gotten herself into this mess?

Her face gave her away. Rage swept over him and he sucked in a sharp breath, and clenched his fists. "Son of a bitch!" he cursed softly. He took hold of her arm. "That's it. Let's go on upstairs, Buff. I'm going to have a little chat with this loser, right now."

While his growly possessiveness was a major turn-on. The last thing she wanted was for Booth and Spike to get into a smack-down. Buffy dug her heels in and hastily began to explain. "It's not what you think. I hit him too—and he wasn't my boyfriend. He was like my…" She floundered for a second, before her eyes lit up as an explanation came to mind, "sparring partner. We kind-a trained together, see?"

His narrow eyed glare said he clearly didn't. "No I don't, so why don't you start at the beginning?"

"But, I don't even know if he's here," she whined, trying to avoid any kind of show and tell regarding Spike.

"But something gave you the idea he was, so what was it?" he shot back, not convinced.

She sighed. There was no way out, so she pointed to the blue Chevy Camaro parked next to her white Toyota. "Because that looks like his car," she admitted.

Booth walked over to the vehicle, took out a small flash-light and shined it inside the windows. He wrinkled his nose at the clothes, CD's, empty whiskey bottles and other bits of trash scattered all over the seats and floor. "Besides being a slob, does he listen to the Sex Pistols, drink Jack Daniels, and have a strange addiction for…" He frowned, "Wheat-a-Bix?"

Buffy almost stomped her foot in fury. She'd known it was him the minute she'd seen the car. Why were the Powers—_and_ Spike, so set out to ruin her one chance at happiness?

Her expressive face was all the answer Booth needed. He strode back over to her and hunkered down so that they were eye to eye. "Look, I'm going to ask you again—start at the beginning, and then explain to me what you mean by sparring because any man that hits a woman isn't a man at all in my book."

Angel had never been so forceful with her and for a second she almost snapped that she could take care of herself, but he wasn't Angel anymore and she knew he wouldn't be upset if he didn't care. It made her go all warm and gooey inside. "Okay," she agreed with a sigh. "His name is Spike, and I knew him a long time ago, back when I was—" She paused. She'd told Whistler she wouldn't mention her ex-honey at all and under no circumstances was she supposed to give a full disclosure, but would this count as mentioning? Then she remembered calling him Angel in bed earlier, and froze. Oh God, she couldn't tell him about Angel because then he'd think she was some freak for calling him by her dead ex-boyfriend's name. Why hadn't she just kept her mouth shut when she'd seen Spike's car?

"When you were what?" Booth prompted, getting frustrated by her lack of cooperation until it dawned on him that he was bullying his way into her past. They were lovers, but maybe this was something she wasn't ready to share. He took a deep breath, and stepped back. "Hey, if you don't want to talk about it…I can respect that, and maybe I'm overstepping here—I know things between us has happened fast, but I not going to stand by while you confront some asshole who's hit you before." He crossed his arms over his chest, his chin jutted and she could tell he was going to be stubborn about this. "That's just not who I am," he stated firmly.

She knew that, and maybe at one point in her life-back when she felt she had to protect the world, she might have taken issue with it, but today…Buffy was a different woman. She felt no need to shoulder all the world's problems upon her slim shoulders. "You're not overstepping," she said, running her thumb along his brooding frown line. Boy was that a face she recognized. "Actually I kind-a like you all growly, but really…Spike is harmless."

"Then why did you two fight?"

"We didn't—well, we did, but mostly it was because I wanted to. He kept me sharp and on my toes."

"What were you, some kind of female boxer, or something?" he asked, but his skeptical way he eyed her tiny body up and down spoke volumes on how far-fetched he found that explanation.

"Hey, I'm stronger than I look, believe me, but no…I wasn't a boxer." She giggled at the thought. Boy wouldn't those big girls be surprised when faced with her Slayer strength—she could make a fortune in Vegas. Her face straightened. That was bad—'Bad Buffy'. "No, he helped me train for my job, actually."

"Were you in law enforcement of some kind?"

Now this was turning into a pickle. To lie or not to lie…? "Um…no, not really," she answered vaguely.

A muscle ticked in his jaw, and he was beginning to look seriously frustrated so she rushed to come up with a suitable story that wasn't the absolute truth. She thought of Angel's gig in L.A.—perfect. "I helped the helpless," she blurted out.

"Huh?" he asked, staring at her with a blank expression. "You…helped the helpless…?" He shook his head. "What does that mean? Did you work in some kind of shelter or something?"

She shrugged, quickly putting the story together in her head. "I provided protection for people who needed help, but couldn't really afford it. And sometimes I ran into really shady characters—real bad guys, so I needed to defend myself and my...clients."

He crossed his arms over his chest, and studied her, and Buffy could imagine he got a lot of confessions out of suspects with that thoughtful glower. It took every ounce of control she had not to squirm under his far too perceptive scrutiny. It helped that she wasn't really lying; she _had_ helped the helpless by slaying.

Finally he relaxed, but still looked a bit disbelieving. "Well, that sounds…noble."

Her knees wobbled with relief at escaping his inquisition, and she flashed a bright smile. "That's me—noble Buffy. So you see? Really it's nothing." She shrugged. "Spike had a crush on me for like_ forever_, and I'm just not really in the mood to lock up my underwear anymore, if you know what I mean?" she joked, laughing until she saw his face. He looked appalled, and her laughter died abruptly. Great, she was out of the frying pan and right back into the fire. "And I probably shouldn't have said that, huh?"

He grimaced with distaste. "He used to go through your panties?" His jaw hardened again. "O-kay, there's no way in hell you're going up there alone," he snapped, grabbing her by the elbow and dragging her towards the lobby of the hotel.

Buffy had to practically jog to keep up with him. "Why don't you just conk me on the head and drag me upstairs by my hair? At least then I won't have to run to keep up with you!" she huffed, getting annoyed now.

He stopped abruptly and she almost crashed into him from behind. He turned and his face lost some of its _'grrr'_ look. He sighed and rubbed a hand over his brow. "I'm sorry. It's just—what is it about you that brings out—"

Buffy was still more amused than angry. "The cave-man in you," she supplied.

He looked sheepish. "Yeah, something like that," he muttered.

Her smile broadened. No, not something like—it was _just_ like, actually. She was seeing more and more of Angel in him. "It sounds like the way I feel about you. Just thinking about you with that—" She stopped, and flushed. "Sorry. Almost forgot that's your partner." To her relief he didn't look offended. "Let's just say…seeing you with another woman made me go all wonky, even though I'd never actually met you. Does that make sense?"

He tilted his head to the side and frowned. "Not really. So what are you saying? We make each other crazy?"

"Kind of, I guess, but it doesn't have to be a bad thing," she said, chuckling softly as she closed the distance between them.

"But it's not always good either. Is that the kind of relationship you had with this guy?"

Buffy shook her head. "No—noooo, it wasn't crazy—" She frowned. "Well…it was, but not like you and me crazy. It was…" She paused. "Unhealthy," she said. "I was in a bad place when I was with Spike. I'm in a totally different frame of mind now."

He made a face. "What is this guy—a leftover from some seventies punk band? What kind of name is Spike anyways?"

He was so jealous. It was kind of cute, actually. "A bad one?" she said it as a question, and smiled at him charmingly. He blinked at her and she saw him softening again. That hadn't changed either. Thank God. He was still a sucker for her smile. She loved him for it. "But really, it wouldn't make any sense for him to come here today and think I'm the same girl I was then."

"But people don't always do what makes sense, Buffy." He sighed. "You know, my partner, Bones…she's always breaking everything down to the rational explanation, if it isn't rational, it can't exist, but the world isn't that way. _People_ aren't that way. We're about emotion, and if this guy still has a thing for you, he may not be thinking with a rational mind, do you understand what I'm saying?"

She nodded, but she had a feeling she knew why Spike was here and it probably had more to do with him than with her, truthfully.

"You know why I shot the clown?" he asked unexpectedly.

Surprised he was bringing that up, she shook her head. "Not really. I was kind of going with a 'stressed out day at the Hoover building' theory, myself," she quipped.

He chuckled. "Not quite, but good answer—maybe I'll try that with the shrink…" It was obvious he liked her wit, but very quickly he got serious again. "Actually it started a couple weeks ago. I was on a case—hunting a serial killer. He threatened my son. Wanted to kill Bones, and almost killed the woman I was involved with at the time," he said very quietly.

Buffy lost all traces of humor. She knew from all the pictures in his house that Booth adored his son, Parker, and Bones was his partner, he obviously cared for her and respected her, but who was the woman he'd been involved with? Did he still care about her? Want to be with her? Buffy pushed aside her own questions and focused on listening because he obviously needed to talk.

She took his hand and squeezed it. "That sounds terrible. Are they—? I mean, everyone's okay, right?"

His fingers laced with hers. "Yeah, but Howard Epps isn't."

She gave him a puzzled look. "Howard Epps?"

"The serial killer," he stated. He went on to explain how Epps came to be hanging off a balcony with him as the murderer's only hope for survival. "He was a monster and deserved to die, no doubt about it. He'd beaten and murdered several women, and almost killed Cam…" He looked away and in that instant she saw the same characteristics in him that had made her love Angel so much. He was still the same soulful man struggling to resolve the conflicting parts of himself. On one hand he had been a sniper that had killed people as a job, but on the other, he was a man who believed in God and saving souls. It made her heart ache to see he was still struggling with guilt even after he'd earned his redemption.

She ran her free hand along the side of his face. He had stubble now. She reveled in the changes and the similarities in him. "You don't think you let him die, do you?"

He squeezed her hand and rubbed his cheek into her palm, obviously enjoying her touch, before his face clouded over and he shrugged. "That's just it. I don't know." He looked so torn; Buffy spontaneously drew him into her arms and hugged him. His arms came around her and he buried his face in her neck. "I don't know if I dropped him or let him fall, and it's eating at me, Buffy," he murmured into her hair.

She leaned back in his embrace and stroked his face again. "I know we just met, but I can't see you letting someone die…even if he endangered people you love. I know it sounds crazy, but I really think I know you better than that. I think you'd try and save him—make him face his crimes, but I don't think you'd drop him," she whispered, reassuringly. "You're too honest for that. You walk a fine line between right and wrong, but you strive to end up on the right side. Your conscience would never let you do that."

"Why does everyone keep saying I draw lines and act like that's a bad thing?"

She smiled. "Boundaries aren't always bad, unless they cut you off from living your life, Seeley."

He nodded, surprised she 'got' him so quickly. He went back to his story. "So…after Epps died I told Bones that what I do was too dangerous to have a relationship. It was the reason I ended it with Cam. I felt like what happened to her was because we had a personal relationship, you know?"

Buffy tamped down her irrational jealousy against this 'Cam' and focused on what he was saying. "Unh-huh," she said, nodding her head. "So you drew that line again, but this time it was a barrier to keep people from getting hurt, right?"

He nodded. "That's what scares me about how I feel about you. Someone could get to me—take me down by hurting you. Or I could hurt someone else protecting you. I already feel like I'm ready to wring this Spike guy's neck, and I've never met the asshole. My life—my career—it makes me numb to violence, but the people I care about…they're not, and I can't let who I am get someone hurt."

Buffy realized his job was dangerous, maybe as dangerous as being The Slayer or The Vampire with a Soul, mainly because he dealt with humanity. Buffy had learned the hard way that humans could be far more evil than most demons, but she'd lived her life worrying about the what-if's for too long. She was bound and determined to never do that again. "But Seeley, people's lives are in danger every day—I mean, I could be killed walking across the street on any given day, but that doesn't mean I don't want to live my life to the fullest because I'm afraid of dying." She bit her lip. "I did that once. Trust me. It's no way to live."

"Was that with your ex—the guy who died, right?"

She nodded. "Remember, I told you there isn't enough time?" He nodded. "It's the truth. You can't live life thinking about what _'might'_ happen. You have to live it for what you have and appreciate it." Buffy swallowed hard as memories of the years spent without him flashed behind her eyes—a Technicolor vision of misery and pain. She blinked away the tears that threatened to fall, and her voice lowered huskily. "If not…you have only your regrets to keep you warm at night, and believe me—they're nothing, but cold comfort." She gave him a watery smile. "Having someone who means the world to you is so much better," she finished softly.

Booth felt her heartache and desperation. It struck a chord deep within, almost like they'd done this before. Played out this scene of sadness. "Buffy, what's happening here—between us?" He searched her eyes, looking for answers. "Are you trying to hold on to the guy you lost? Because if you are—this isn't the way." He looked sad as he shook his head. "I'm not him, and I'll never be able to replace him for you."

She sucked in her breath sharply at how close to home those words struck. He was far too astute to even_ try_ and answer that question, so she countered with one of her own. "Does it feel wrong?"

He realized she hadn't answered, but shook his head and replied anyway. "No. And this may sound weird, but you feel like the first totally right thing in my life since Parker was born."

"Then let's go with that and see where it leads, okay?" She ran her hands up his muscled chest. "I'm not looking for you to replace anyone—maybe three years ago I would have wanted that, but he's been gone a long time—too long, really." She slid her hands into his hair. "When I look at you…I see _you_." She flashed a blindingly white smile up at him. "Seeley Booth. No replacement—no back-up—just you and me, exploring whatever this thing is between us, okay?"

He cupped her face in his hands. "Want to tell me what you've seen that made you so wise at such a young age?"

How could she explain dying twice—sending the love of your life to hell—saving the world a few times and all before you were of age to drink. Could she even explain? Nope. She couldn't, so she felt no need to divulge. Instead she just smiled and leaned up on her tip-toes to kiss him gently. "Would you believe I was born wise?" He raised a brow and she giggled. "You know…all brainy. Actually, I think was a little old British man when I was born—I've just evolved…"she teased, grinning at him impishly.

He laughed and hugged her. She made the bad go away. The guilt with Epps—his fears that it was his fault with what happened to Camille…all of that seemed to fade when he was with her. "I think I'm going to tell Dr. Gordon, Gordon Wyatt to just talk to you—maybe he'd sign my paper then."

Buffy laughed. "Gordon-Gordon Wyatt? Is that really his name?"

Booth made a face and nodded. "Yeah, bad huh?"

"And here I thought Buffy Summers was bad," she joked.

A broad grin spread across his face. "It could be worse…you could be Buffy-Buff Summers, or Buff-Buffy, or—"

She held up a hand, and gave him an exaggerated scowl. "Okay, that's _so_ not funny!" He giggled and kept coming up with ridiculous ways to say her name and she couldn't help but join in on his laughter. The playful side of his personality was infectious, and she'd rarely seen Angel like that, so this was a treat to her senses. "You know—it's not nice to tease someone about the name they had no choice in receiving Seeeleeey," she drew his name out, bubbling into laughter when he instantly stopped grinning and scowled. "Oh, not so funny when it's your name being made fun of huh?" she taunted.

He grabbed her hand and pulled her to him. "I never let people call me Seeley," he confided, holding her to him with his arm wrapped loosely around her waist. "It's Booth or nothing," he said, making a chopping motion with his hand. "So…why is it hearing my name from your lips makes me tingle?"

Her heart lurched, and her breath caught. She was caught up in those eyes. "I don't know," she breathed.

He tilted his head to the side and seemed to study her for a moment. "Me either," he said softly.

He was far more relaxed now, so she felt it safe to ask, "So…are you feeling less 'grrr'? Can we go upstairs without you wanting to beat up Spike?"

They'd gotten so off track—he'd almost forgotten why he'd initially raced over here. "I guess…" he said with a nod, but then he frowned. "_Unless_ he's been anywhere near your underwear drawer. Then he'll be a bug I'll be wiping off my shoe later…" he muttered under his breath, but loud enough for her to hear.

She rolled her eyes, but looped her arm through his and smiled up at him. "Well I'm thinking with Dawn there my panties are probably safe for now," she said, fluttering her lashes as her grin turned decidedly naughty. "Well, except from_ you_ that is…" she teased.

**Upstairs: Buffy/Dawn's room:**

Buffy unlocked the door to her room and found Spike and Dawn reclining together on her sister's bed. She stopped, stared, and then frowned. It was just a bit too cozy for her liking since Dawn was about the same age she'd been when Spike had decided he was obsessed with _her_. Booth crowded in behind her, and it only took one look at the scowl that darkened his handsome features to know his mind had gone right where hers was.

"What the hell?" he muttered under his breath.

Spike on the other hand, leapt from the bed with a flourish. "Slay—Buffy, how are you, pet?"

The growl behind her was the first clue he was angry again. He maneuvered around Buffy to enter the room before she did. Even without his _vamp-ness_—he dominated the room with his size and presence. "Don't call her pet—she isn't your pet." His eyes raked over the smaller man, taking in the platinum hair, electric blue eyes, black fingernails, and the pale, sunken cheeks—heroin addict came to mind, and Booth's lip curled with distaste. "Don't tell me—you must be Spike," he muttered, as Buffy shut the door.

The blond vampire's jaw dropped and he was so surprised at seeing Angel alive and in the flesh, so to speak, that he didn't even think to gloat on the fact that Buffy had obviously told the big lummox about him. He blinked. It was amazing—he'd seen Angel turn to dust with his own eyes. "Bloody hell—it's true," he breathed.

Booth narrowed his eyes at the blonde. The guy was staring at him like he'd seen a ghost. "What's true?" A shiver raced up his spine. He didn't like the way the smaller man was looking at him--it was too intent, almost creepy like. "Why are you staring at me like that?"

Spike couldn't resist getting a closer look at his resurrected Sire. Faster than Booth could blink, he sidled right up next to the Agent and leaned in just a bit, sniffing.

Booth's head whipped about and he was more than a bit stunned at how fast the blond had gotten right up close and personal. "Hey, you wanna back off, pal," he snapped, planting a hand in Spike's chest, and shoving him away. Booth glared at the blond. He hadn't liked being stared at, but being smelled was beyond annoying--it was down right weird. "Haven't you ever heard of personal space?" Booth hald his arms out wide. "Well this is mine, stay out of it."

Not to be put off, Spike circled him, staying out of Booth's 'personal-space', but still inhaling deeply as he did so. "He doesn't really smell like Peaches," he mused, glancing over his shoulder at Buffy. "Are you sure?"

Booth spun around keeping Spike in front of him. "Of course I don't smell like peaches! Why the hell would you think I did?"

"Just need to get closer," Spike said and leaned in again, practically running his nose along Booth's cheek this time.

The Agent yanked his head back; a comical look of horror crossed his face and he practically hummed with annoyance. He wasn't sure what was up with this guy, but he was starting to believe the asshole was hitting on him! "Okay, you're creeping me out now," he growled, and pushed Spike away--harder this time.

Spike stumbled, but vampire reflexes saved him from ending up on his ass. "Bloody well acts like the big ape though," he muttered.

Booth looked shocked at the insult, but when Spike took a step towards him, the Agent's big body tensed as if preparing to strike. "Smell me again, and I _will _take out my gun and shoot you! Got it?" he warned.

"Go ahead, betcha I can stop you," Spike said, lifting his chin.

Booth's hands went to his hips. "Really? Is that right, Blondie?"

"Spike…" Buffy warned.

Spike ignored her. Instead he puffed his chest out and smirked. "Go ahead, I'd like to see you try it ya git!" Spike answered back.

Booth's eyes widened incredulously. "Did you just call me a tit?" His brows snapped down and he took a threatening step towards Spike, huge fists clenched as if ready to pound the smaller man into next week.

The blond vampire glanced at Buffy. "You better call your watchdog off, pet, before I give him a spanking."

"I told you…don't call her that," Booth growled, towering over Spike, but leaning down so that he was right up in the vampire's face. "And I'd like to see you try and spank me, squirt."

Buffy was done. "That's it!" She got in between them and pushed, giving Spike an extra hard shove only because he had seriously pissed her off showing up announced—even if she _was_ happy to know he was still among the un-living. "Will you both stop it? I swear I'm choking on the testosterone flying around this room right now."

Wisely, Booth kept quiet, she was obviously angry, but he still glared at Spike. The blond just seemed to rub him the wrong way.

Buffy turned blazing green eyes on her uninvited guest. "Why are you here, Spike? Besides wanting to annoy me, that is?"

"Bloody hell—that wanker started it," Spike said petulantly, shooting daggers at Booth. "Why aren't you giving him the evil-eye too?"

Not quite sure what a _wanker_ was, but positive he wouldn't like being called it, Booth smirked at Spike over Buffy's shoulder. "Maybe because she likes me better," he taunted, unable to resist needling the other man. It was childish, yeah, and he couldn't put a finger on it, but there was just _something_ about the bleached blond that irked him to no end.

Dawn burst out laughing. "Oh my God, how old are you two again?"

Buffy's eyes flew to Spike's. Hers narrowed dangerously, and the unspoken threat was blatantly clear in her gaze. If he answered that question truthfully, he'd be dust in the wind shortly thereafter.

Spike threw his hands up in the air. "Whatever Slayer—figures you'd bloody well choose the poof over me—you always did." he snapped. He gave Booth a sneering glance and made a *pfft* sound. "Well you win mate. Looks like she _was_ always your girl after all," he growled and strode from the room, slamming the door behind him.

Buffy shot daggers at the closed door. She should have known Spike was here to cause trouble. Well at least they hadn't fought. She was breathing a sigh of relief that it was over when Booth's words tossed her right back into a panic.

"Why did he say you'd always been mine, and what the hell is a Slayer?" he questioned, crossing his arms and leveling those far too perceptive eyes on her.

Dawn took that minute to speak up. "You know, I'm going to give you guys some privacy here," she said slipping on her shoes. "Plus Spike's probably down in the bar drowning his sorrows and unless we want to have to move out tonight—I think someone should be down there watching him, don't you?"

Buffy gave her sister a grateful look. "Yeah, absolutely. Thanks Dawnie," she called after her sister.

Dawn smiled at the door. "No prob." She looked at Booth. Then mouthed to Buffy 'Good luck,' silently and shut the door behind her.

"Are you sure she's okay with that guy? I don't like him."

Buffy rolled her eyes as he stated the obvious. "She'll be fine. Spike is like a big brother to her."

He didn't seem to believe that, but he nodded and didn't say anything else about Dawn and Spike. "So what did he mean by all that crap he said about you always being my girl after all? And why did he call you slayer? What does that mean?"

"Um…" Buffy hedged, wracking her brain for an excuse.

As if suddenly remembering his eyes snapped open wide, then he scowled. "And did that Billy Idol wannabe actually call me a poof?!"

Buffy had to bite back her bubble of laughter. He was definitely brooding now, and he looked more put out by the 'poof' comment than anything, maybe she could get out of this after all. "He's British," she said by way of excuse. "You know…poof, wanker…" She bit her lip. "Slayer…" She shrugged. "They're all just words he says. He's like a peroxided-pest that I tend to ignore. Makes him a little less annoying."

"But what about you always being my girl? What did he mean by that?"

"I guess he meant it like I was never his girl, so I must have been yours…" She held her breath. She wasn't lying—not really.

His face relaxed as he seemed to contemplate that for a minute. "I still don't like him..." he growled, but let the subject drop, and Buffy nearly sagged with relief that she had indeed dodged the 'Spike' bullet—this time.

******Okay guys, click the blue button--feed the musie and let me know if you found Booth and Spike as funny as I do. I gigled a few times writing that part. Season 5 was one of my favorites on AtS **only** because of the banter between Spike and Angel. Hope you liked the chappie and like I said, any boo-boos are all mine**.****

**_Jen_**


	7. Chapter 7

**Still His Girl**

**A fic by: Jen**

**Rating: M**

**Disclaimer: I own none of the characters from either Bones or BtVS—much to my utter sadness. God, I'd love to own Booth or Angel/Angelus! :) Yummy!**

**This is a very short A/N cause I'm trying to get them under 500 words!! lol! This is also un-beta'd...sorry, but it's basically PWP with a tad of Spike thrown in...(lol) and I figured you'd rather have a new chappie than wait, right?? Hope I was right. Anyhow, I want to thank each and every one of you who've supported this fic and R&R'd. I was nervous about putting this up because of all the Booth/Brennan shippers out there, but it's gotten such a good response, I'm totally happy I did it. I love Booth and Buffy! :) All of your feedback has inspired my musie and she's totally into this fic. Thank you. :) :)**

**Also, for a list of some awesome authors...go to my profile. All of the people on my faves and mentioned in my profile are amazing. :) :)**

Okay, now on with the smut...

xoxo

Jen

****_Chappie 7**_**

**Palomar Hotel: Buffy/Dawn's room**

For a moment they were totally silent, and Buffy felt the nervous energy of relief and anxiety rush through her simultaneously. She'd dodged a bullet that could have brought her precarious house of cards down, but Seeley had still met, and had to deal with the bizarness that was Spike. What was he thinking?

"Well, that went better than I thought it would," she quipped, wringing her hands as she studied Booth for any signs that he was upset, or worse, remembering his life as Angel.

She'd been afraid that seeing Spike might trigger his memory to come back. Even if a part of her wished for her Angel back, another part of her was falling hard and fast for Agent Seeley Booth. It was a conundrum because it appeared, no matter who he was, she still loved him, so what to do?

On one hand, Booth laughed more than Angel. He didn't hate himself and what he was like Angel did, but with Angel she could share who she really was. But was that worth seeing that self loathing back in those beautiful brown eyes? While a part of her missed Angel's gentle and complete devotion to her, even though she had to admit she hadn't had that since he'd left Sunnydale, but they could find that again. The real question here was whether it was worth wiping away the confidence and happiness he'd found as Seeley Booth so he could remember his past? Would Angel even want to remember after knowing the peace he'd found as Booth? It was confusing and Buffy was torn about what outcome she really wanted. _Did she really want him to remember_? She honestly couldn't answer that anymore.

Booth saying her name as he waved a hand in front of her face startled her and brought her out of her reverie. "Wow, thought I lost you for a minute there," he said, giving her a strange look. "Want to share what put that far-away look in your eyes?"

She sighed. "It was nothing, just thinking about how bad the meeting between you and Spike could have gone, but didn't. Score one for the 'let's all get along' approach," she said, giving him a small smile.

He snorted. "I wouldn't go that far. I still think Billy-boy is bad news, but as long as he keeps his nose out of my personal space, and his hands out of your underwear drawer, I won't have to shoot him."

She giggled, and Booth shot her a frown. "It's not funny, Buffy. Come on, that guy is weird. Did you see his hands? He wears black nail polish. What kind of guy wears nail polish?" He made a face of disgust. "And he was…" he scowled, "smelling me," he said, and Buffy had to bite back her giggle at his look of utter horror. "Ugh. Don't you think that's kind of freaky?"

"That's Spike. Freaky doesn't even begin to cover it," she said offhandedly.

He looked put out again, and he crossed his arms over his chest as he gave her that look she was starting to associate with an upcoming interrogation—it was the same look that made her instinctively squirm. "So you guys had one of_ those_ _kind_ of relationships?"

She recognized that broody scowl. "Huh? What?" she asked, and could have bitten off her tongue for making that flippant remark. Dammit, just when she's out of the frying pan again, she took a nose dive back into the fire. She shook her head. "No-noooo," she assured him, shaking her head. "It wasn't all that freaky…I mean not the kind of freaky I think you mean. It was…" She chose her words carefully. "Not pretty, and definitely unhealthy, but like I said earlier, I was in a bad place at that time and Spike…" She shrugged, "well, he made me feel something besides the numbing emptiness."

"Were you with him after your ex died, is that it?"

"No, I was with Spike after my ex dumped me and moved to L.A." she said. She hoped he didn't hear the bitterness in her voice, but he was too perceptive.

"This guy—your ex, he really hurt you, didn't he?"

She nodded. "Yes," she admitted very quietly.

"But you still loved him despite that didn't you?"

She nodded, biting her lip to keep from telling him she still did—always would as a matter of fact.

Booth cupped her face in his hands. "So Spike was 'rebound guy'?" he asked, instinctively abandoning the topic of her ex. There was obviously a bit too much pain still there for his liking.

She nodded. "Yeah, I guess you could call him that, but it was a very long time ago, Seeley. I mean like another lifetime." She ran her hands up his chest. "Please, can we not talk about it anymore?" she asked, turning huge green eyes on him and fluttering her lashes. "There are so many—far more interesting things we could be doing instead of talking about Spike…"

It was the added pout that made his resolve crumble. "You know that look isn't always going to work, right?"

Buffy's smile was radiant and more than a tad relieved. "Yep, but I'm _so_ gonna enjoy it while it lasts," she teased. "You have your broody scowl…and your gun. I have my feminine wiles…" She tunneled her fingers into the short, soft hairs at the nape of his neck. "You wouldn't begrudge me using whatever means necessary to get my way with you, now would you?"

He laughed softly. She could have her way with him alright—any way and in every way she wanted. He didn't say it out loud; instead he wrapped his arms loosely around her hips and leaned down to brush her lips with a kiss. "I've never met anyone like you, you know that?" he said, raising his head.

"I'm going to take that as a compliment," she said and leaned up on her tip-toes to bring their lips back into contact.

Several deep, wet kisses later, he pulled back with a gasp. He was hard and aching to be inside her again. He gritted his teeth and resisted the urge to toss her on the bed and take her like a mindless animal. Jeez, she really did bring out the cave-man in him, didn't she? "What about your sister?" he asked, trying to catch his breath. He glanced at the door as if expecting it to open. "She could be back any minute," he said, almost wishing she would, he was so close to losing control.

Buffy gave a small shake of her head as she nibbled her way along his jaw. "Nah, she'll be down there for at least an hour. Plus…look over at the nightstand." He glanced at the table, but frowned when he didn't see anything amiss. Buffy giggled and slid her hands down his hips and around to palm the firm muscles of his ass. "She forgot her key," she said with a grin and a squeeze, sending his pulse sky-rocketing.

He couldn't resist anymore—it looked like he was an animal where she was concerned after all. A slow, decidedly wicked smile swept across his face as he realized the implication. "Aaaah, how convenient of her," he said, and lowered his head again. This time he took control of the kiss, and backed her towards the bed, eager to be with her now that he'd let go of his reservations. "Which one is yours?" he asked urgently, his breath huffing against her flesh as his lips trailed a hot path down her throat to that bit of scarred flesh that fascinated him for some reason, and drove her wild.

Buffy arched her neck, giving him better access to his mark. "That one," she panted, just as urgent as he was. She motioned to the Queen-sized bed closest to the door as her hands went to his belt buckle and hurriedly unfastened it. "Need you," she whispered, breathlessly.

He groaned when her tiny hand slipped inside the front of his jeans and wrapped around his erect penis. "Buffy!" he gasped, his hips jerking forward and into her touch. She burned him. All she had to do was look at him a certain way and he was panting for her. They'd spent hours indulging their lust for each other, but it was as if this was the first time all over again. "You make me crazy," he muttered, pulling at her clothes, as eager as she was to get naked and back in bed.

**Downstairs bar:**

Dawn found Spike at the bar just as she'd expected. He had several shots lined up in front of him and was shooting them back one by one.

"Keep em coming, mate," he said as he slammed the last glass down.

Dawn took a seat next to him. "Do you really think getting wasted is going to help?"

The bartender re-filled all the glasses with Jack Daniels and walked away to ring them up. Spike snorted. "Maybe not, but if I drink enough of these, I won't care one way or the other," he grumbled, picking up the glass and drinking down the booze with one gulp.

The bartender came back with the total and Spike paid him. The guy looked Dawn over, and then carded her. "Twenty One last month," she said proudly as she showed him her ID, and ordered herself a wine cooler.

"Bollocks! What the bloody hell is a wine cooler? If you're gonna sit here with me, Bit, at least have a real drink, will ya?"

"I don't really drink, Spike," she said.

"Well it's never too late to start," he replied with a smirk and pushed one of the shot glasses filled with JD at her.

She made a face, but he was smiling at her in a taunting, challenging way. He raised a scarred brow. "Not scared are ya?"

She scowled. "Of what? You?" She snorted and rolled her eyes. "Puh-lease…" she said and picked up the glass.

Spike smirked again, but clinked his glass against hers. "To Peaches," he said with a broad grin. "May he catch a bad case of the clap and have all his manly parts shrivel up and—"

Dawn's eyes bulged. "Spike!" she exclaimed, cutting off the rest of his words. "_So_ not wanting that visual in my head, thank you very much!"

He blinked at her innocently, but the smile was devilish. "What? I didn't wish him dead…" He shrugged and chuckled. "Just neutered…"

"I'm not drinking to that," she said, but her lips twitched despite herself.

He sighed. "Fine." He tapped his shot glass against hers. "To the Slayer and the Poof, may they shag like bunnies, have lots of little poofters, and bloody well live happily ever after! Happy?" he grumbled. Dawn giggled, and Spike scowled. "You laugh now…just wait." He smirked and motioned to her still full glass. "Drink up, Pet, we still have a long way to go before I'm done feeling bleeding sorry for me-self."

Dawn tipped her head and shot back the drink in one gulp. She coughed and sputtered, making a face, but kept the booze down. "Whew," she gasped, "my throats on fire."

Spike pushed a glass of water her way. "You'll get used to the burn," he said with a grin. He nodded to the bartender and the guy re-filled the glasses again. Spike pushed another one Dawn's way. He smiled at her with genuine warmth. "Thanks for coming down and keeping me company, Bit."

She set the water down after taking a few swallows. She smiled. A pleasant sensation of warmth was spreading throughout her belly, and with more confidence she picked up her shot and lifted it towards Spike. "To my sister, she's saved the world—a lot, may she finally get the happiness she deserves."

Spike sighed, but raised his glass anyhow. "That she has, but did it have to be with him?"

The shot back their drinks, this time Dawn didn't cough, but she still made a face and took a sip of water. "She loves him. She always has, you were the one who reminded me of that."

He scowled. "Well who told you to listen to me?" he said petulantly.

She giggled. "Come on, Spike…I know you were upset when he died. I saw it in your face, when you came to Rome. Something had changed between you and Angel…"

He shrugged. "Maybe, I had started to see what he was really about. He was a brooding tosser, but he had guts…" He took a drink. "I was…put out that he'd gone out like that, committing bloody suicide. But I sure as hell didn't expect the ponce to get that brass ring and come back human!" He grabbed another glass, pausing to roll the booze around the glass for a moment. He snorted. "I swear Angel could land in a pile of manure and still come out of it smelling like a bloody rose! Hundred and fifty years of blood and torture, and the soddin' almighty Powers That Be just give him back his humanity—it's not fair. I saved the world too, ya know?" he said petulantly and gulped the shot down. "And what do I get?" he said, slamming the glass back on the bar. "Nothing but a bleedin' cup of Mountain Dew, that's what! Where's the justice in that?" he asked, grabbing another shot of Jack.

More than a bit confused, Dawn's brows drew down in a puzzled frown. "Huh? Mountain Dew? What are you talking about?" He shrugged and mumbled something about a fake prophecy and she took the glass out of his hand. "I think you've maybe had too much of this… and I also think you're being unfair to Angel. What about the hundred years of suffering he went through before he met Buffy? _You_ didn't suffer like that when you got your soul back, right?"

He snatched his glass back and gulped it down before she could even think of taking it away again. "Yeah, well—Angelus made me look like a choir boy, so I didn't have as many victims to brood over, now did I?"

"And how'd you get the name Spike again?" she asked, raising a brow at him.

He chuckled. "I didn't say I _was_ a choir-boy—only that Angelus made me look like one, and since I don't want to ruin our little party here by going into details..let's just say—Angel had it right to brood over it for a century…"

"Maybe so, but Angel wasn't Angelus," she said. "Just like Booth isn't really Angel anymore."

"Is the Slayer going to tell the big ape who he used to be?"

Dawn fiddled with her empty shot glass, waving off the bartender when he went to re-fill her. "I think she wanted to at first, but now…" She shrugged. "I don't know. Plus Whistler made her promise not to mention Angel at all."

Spike pushed another glass her way and Dawn shot him a surprised look, before her eyes narrowed and she raised a suspicious brow. "Are you trying to get me drunk?" she asked warily.

He chuckled evilly. "Why not, either you'll cheer me up or we'll both be too wasted to realize we're miserable," he said wrapping her hand around the little glass of alcohol.

Dawn's lip jutted, and she scowled. "Hey, I'm not miserable! I'm just…unattached."

Spike rolled his eyes. "Sure you aren't. So it was your big plan all along to give your life fighting evil and never finding that right guy who makes your heart go pitter-pat?"

Dawn frowned. "Okay, so maybe I'm a bit depressed sometimes, but not miserable—that would definitely be you," she teased.

"Well, you know what they say…misery loves company, and all that rot, so how about your depression keeps my misery company."

Dawn giggled and raised her glass. "Fine, to misery and his company," she joked.

Spike raised his. "I'll do better than that. Here's to getting good and tossed and telling the world and the 'Powers-that-Be-whatever' to bugger off!"

"Here-here," she agreed, and shot back her drink. A few minutes and another shot later, Dawn gave Spike a goofy smile. "You know what…? I'm already feeling way better—is that why you always drank so musch?" she asked, slurring her words just a bit.

He nodded, feeling no pain himself. "Yeah, amazin' how that happens, eh?" he said, patting his jacket for his cigarettes. He took the pack out, and lit one. "Ya know—you can say what you want about them being happy and all—if ya ask me, human or not…he's still a dick."

The bartender grabbed an ashtray and handed it to Spike. "Hey, you can't smoke in here. You're going to have to put that out."

Spike took another hit, blew it in the bartenders face before he laid a hundred dollar bill on the bar. "Ya might as well get us a bottle, mate—me and the Bit here are on a mission tonight," he said stubbing his cigarette out.

"I can't sell you a bottle—if I over-serve, the Hotel is liable, and I could lose my job if you get in an accident after you leave here."

Dawn frowned. "But I'm staying here. We're not driving. Look here's my key," she said reaching into her back pocket. She frowned. "Ooopsie…I must have left it in the room," she said, before giggling. The bartender gave Spike a look, but the blond vampire simply stared back, totally unaffected. "But wait! I'm in room fifteen, twelve, you can look it up, right?"

The bartender went to his computer behind the bar and punched in a few keys. "What's your name?"

"Dawn Summers. The room is under Buffy Summers. That's my sister."

The bartender agreed and set a new bottle of JD down on the bar along with two clean shot glasses. "Enjoy," he said and picked up the hundred. "But if you need me to call up to your room…" he said to Dawn, ignoring Spike's glare. "Just let me know—I don't want to see you get taken advantage of," he said, giving Spike another look.

"Taken advantage of?" Suddenly she giggled. "Ooh you mean by Spike here?" She shook her head, laughing even harder. "Soo not going to happen—he has the big puppy-love for my sister, but she's upstairs, probably having sex with her used to be vam—"

Spike clapped a hand over her mouth, grabbed the bottle, and pulled her away from the bar. "Alright Bit, I'd ask if you were ready to get sauced, but I think you already are!"

Dawn let him lead her to a dimly lit corner booth towards the back of the bar. "Maybe I am, but since I'm locked out of my room, and I can only imagine what's going on up there right now anyhow—" She grinned. "Might as well have fun, right? Buffy and Booth sure are, I bet."

Spike glowered at her. "Thanks for puttin' that visual in me head, Bit," he muttered, as he flung himself into the seat. "You know what? Bugger this! Bugger the Slayer and the Poof too! Drama Queens, the both of them, maybe you're right. Maybe they _are_ perfect for each other…" Spike gazed at Dawn. She had always been cute as a bug, but in the last few years, she had turned into a beautiful woman. He stared at her long and hard, stunned she'd grown up without him even noticing. "Maybe there's someone else out there for me…someone I never saw until…now," he said softly and poured them both another shot.

**Upstairs:**

Clothes were strewn everywhere, the covers had been kicked off the bed and lay on the floor in a heap, and the sounds of their ragged, panting breaths and moans were drowned out only by the creaking of the bed and the headboard banging against the wall as Booth and Buffy indulged in their endless need for one another.

"Seeley," Buffy whimpered, as she braced her hands on the well defined muscles of his chest and levered herself up and down, riding his cock hard. "Oh God," she panted. "So good- so good- so good," she chanted, as the first flutters of another orgasm tingled its way from the place where they were joined, into her belly, down her legs, and into her toes, making them curl with pleasure. "Yes!" she gasped as she felt his hand glide down her belly and in between their driving bodies.

Booth planted his feet into the mattress and pumped his hips upward, driving them both closer to the precipice of ultimate bliss as he maneuvered his hand into position to give her the relief she needed. He kept his thrusts strong and steady as he expertly rolled her clitoris between his thumb and forefinger. "Come for me, Buffy," he grunted, before pulling on the distended tip of that tiny bundle of nerves, pinching it lightly, and giving her the pressure he knew she needed to come.

Buffy's world exploded in a maelstrom of bright lights and colors. "Seeeelleeeyy!" she screamed as she came undone. Her fingers dug into his shoulders as she was tossed into a chasm of pleasure that was so overwhelming, it fogged the mind and made her incapable of anything more than soft whimpering moans as she threw her head back, grinded down on his driving hips and rode out her climax.

Booth fared no better. His hands gripped her hips and he clenched his eyes shut as every nerve ending seemed to draw tight as his impending orgasm rushed through him. He tried to lift Buffy off him—he hadn't used a condom with her…again, but the Slayer was having none of that, and held on tight. With a deep sigh, he gave up, groaned her name and clutched her to him as he thrust once, twice more, before shooting his hot cum deep inside her womb.

He fell back on the bed, panting and totally out of breath. "That was…" He sucked air into his lungs and shook his head as he cradled her to him. "Amazing," he said in wonder. Usually this was when his regrets came, but with Buffy, there was never any of those—each time was simply better than the last.

She pillowed her head on his chest and hugged him back. "Better than amazing…" she purred, totally satisfied and content to just be with him just like this.

There were no more words because really, words seemed to pale next to the magic of what they'd just shared. He kissed the top of her head and they lay like that, entwined as intimately as two people can be for several minutes as they basked in post-coital-bliss. But soon the laws of nature took over and Buffy felt him slip out of her, she felt the wet warmth of his semen as it trailed out of her and down her thighs. Her arms and legs tightened and she wrapped herself around him a bit more, determined to never let him go this time. It dawned on her that he could have impregnated her, and unconsciously her thighs clenched as if to keep that part of him inside as she reveled in the idea of having his baby.

"I love you," she whispered softly, placing a soft kiss on the sweat slicked flesh of his chest, right above his heart—which thudded in her ears with a loud *thump-thump*. It was a good sound.

Booth eyes snapped open as her quiet declaration reached his ears. He was taken aback at how easily she'd declared her feelings, but he was doubly stunned at how right it felt when a similar reply sprung to his lips. He'd known her less than a week, yet he was ready to lay his heart open to her. How? It was unsettling to say the least. He hugged her tightly as he tried to gather his scattered wits. He'd loved before, but never this fast or this deep. Buffy had entered his life and sent him into a tail spin. He brushed the dampened locks back from her brow and searched her face, looking for the truth. Her eyes were a crisp, clear hazel. So bright and yes, so filled with love, it calmed his internal fears.

He sucked in a deep breath and took a leap of faith. "I love you too," he admitted, cupping her face in his big hands. "I don't know how it happened so fast, but it did," he told her softly. "I've never felt like this with anyone but you, Buffy. I thought I'd been in love before, but now..." he shrugged helplessly; his emotions a confused mess. "I don't know. This is…so different. It's like you're everything—you complete me. Make me whole." He shook his head and laughed at himself. "You must think I'm crazy," he muttered.

"Nooo, I so don't," she told him earnestly. "I think you believe in fate like I do. We were meant to meet that day—I believe that more than I've believed in anything in a very long time," she murmured, meeting his eyes with a determined tilt of her chin. "I deserved a break for once—and they gave you back to me…"

Neither noticed her slip of 'back to me' rather than 'to me'.

"They?" he asked, raising a brow.

Buffy nodded. "Yeah, the Powers, Gods—Fates…whatever you want to call them. They finally decided to smile on me. I'd been unhappy for so long. It seemed like everything good in my life got sucked away…then I met you and that changed," she said, flushing as he stared, tilting his head as if studying her. "I-I saw a chance for happiness—I didn't think I'd ever get that again, not after—" she paused and swallowed back her 'Angel' tears. Okay, she was getting way too mushy and intense on him here.

She wiped at her eyes. "God, now you must think I'm crazy!" She looked away, biting her lip, and running a hand through her hair, as she always did when she was nervous. "Sorry…can we just rewind Buffy's little melt-down and let's just leave it with I think I'm falling in love with you?" Her heart thundered in her chest, but she met his eyes anyhow, frowning with a bit of a pout thrown in. "Unless I've scared you off by going all 'Titanic-epic-y-trauma-girl' on you, that is?"

He laughed huskily. She was something else. He brought his hand up and stroked his knuckles down the downy softness of her cheek. He'd never met anyone who wore their heart on their sleeve like Buffy did. It was more than eye opening—it was refreshing to have someone _not_ try and play games with him. He'd known so many women who'd tried to act like they weren't interested, when he knew they were. Or worse, a woman who did care, but was so out of touch with love, she couldn't feel it. Bones was like that—she didn't believe in emotional attachments like love. Not him. He dealt in feelings, lived by his instincts, and his gut was telling him Buffy was for real.

"Buffy, I—" His phone rang and he scowled, but he had to get it. "I'm sorry," he told her before he grabbed his phone and flipped it open. "Booth," he said into the receiver. Buffy went to move away from him in an attempt to give him some privacy, but his free hand shot out and he pulled her back onto his chest. He wrapped his arm around her and kept her close. "Yeah Bones, what's up?" he asked, still keeping an arm wrapped around Buffy's slim shoulders. "Hey that's great—so you and Sully made a good team? Told you he was okay once you gave him a chance," he said, smiling.

Brennan went on to tell him how they'd solved the case and that she wanted to take Sully to the Royal Diner for a piece of pie and would it bother him if she did. He made a face, it was somewhere in between a frown and a look of surprise. "Why would I care?" He chuckled softly when she told him, in her rational way, it was because she didn't want him to think Sully was taking his place—that was _their_ diner—the place they went after they wrapped up a case, and she knew how Booth placed emotional attachments on things. She was worried about hurting his feelings. He was touched and more than a bit surprised. "Wow Bones, that's actually…" he frowned, "kind of weird coming from you, but you know—it's really not _'our'_ diner, but thanks for asking, and I'm okay with it."

Buffy's brows got lower and lower and her lower lip jutted even further the more she listened. This was starting to sound like an intimate conversation between two people who were a lot more than friends—she didn't like it and the insidious stomach churning feeling of jealousy swept over her.

Booth glanced down, raised a brow at the scowly-pout she directed his way, and soothed whatever was bothering her by running his knuckles along her back in a gentle caress. He listened to Bones as she told him that Sully was interested in her and wanted to ask her out. Buffy watched as his brows lowered. "Why would you dating Sully bother me?" he asked, still frowning.

Buffy expelled her pent up breath and her whole face brightened suddenly. Booth noticed, and his eyes widened as he realized why Buffy had been scowling at him—she was jealous. He chuckled huskily and cuddled his tiny lover closer to his chest reassuringly as he responded to Bones' question. "Trust me," he said to Brennan, (and in a way, Buffy too). "I'm totally okay with it."

****Okay guys, you know the drill...click the button stuff musie so she can inspire me to write more. I promise I will be furthering the plot in the next chappie, but I just needed some Booth/Buffy smutterfluff. I just love them together. :) :) *Jen gushes like a squeeze-pop* lol!****


	8. Chapter 8

_**Still His Girl **_

_**A fic by Jen**_

_**Rating: M definitely an M**_

_**Disclaimer: Sadly, I own none of the characters from Bones or BtVS, so don't sue me!**_

_**Again a short A/N: I sent out replies this time, right?? lol! But I'll say it again—I really appreciate the response this fic is getting. Thank you for all your reviews and feedback. It definitely feeds my musie. **_

_**Also, for a list of some amazing authors, please go to my profile page. Thank you. Now on with the show…Sorry, this is another kind of PWP chappie. I can't help it—it's DB…naked. I get distracted. lol!**_

_**Jen**_

****Chappie 8****

The bathroom mirror was completely fogged over from the hot, sticky steam drifting from the shower, but the sounds coming from inside were hotter than the temperature rising from within the tiny, enclosed space. The breathless cries and deep groans coming from the shower were the mating call of two lovers who truly couldn't seem to get enough of one another.

She shivered in his arms as her world shattered into a kaleidescope of colors and sounds. Sex with him was a roller-coaster ride of non-stop thrills and Buffy clung to him weakly as she came down from her release. Utterly spent, her legs fell from around his waist and the only thing that kept her on her feet was his strong hands gripping her hips. "It just seems to get better and better," she murmured in a well satisfied purr.

He placed a lingering kiss on the side of her neck. "You're gonna to kill me," he panted, letting her slide down his body. His knees wobbled and he rested his forehead against the cool tiles of the shower, grunting softly as he slipped from inside her. Since meeting Buffy he'd existed in an endless realm of passionate encounters that were testing the limits of his stamina. "Buffy, what are you doing to me?" he mused, sucking in much needed air, while enjoying the warm, calming spray of the water as it cascaded over his back. He was beyond sated. Exhausted—completely spent sounded more apropos, yet the need for her was always there, simmering just under his consciousness. She was insatiable in her need for his body and he couldn't seem to get enough of her either. Was this normal, or were they obsessed?

Once he'd recovered feeling in his limbs, he gently took her by the shoulders and turned her so that her back was to him. He reached over her shoulder, grabbed the bottle of shampoo and popped the lid. He brought it to his nose. "Mmmm, nice…" he said, as he dropped a dollop into his palm and began to wash her hair. He leaned closer to her, inhaling the tantalizing scent of vanilla as he rubbed the mixture into her long locks. She arched into his hands and let out a low moan of pleasure as his strong fingers massaged her scalp. Her curvy rear end brushed against him, and he sucked in a sharp breath as his cock took notice and began to swell. He guided her under the water and rinsed her hair until all traces of shampoo was gone.

"Where do you get your energy?" he murmured, when her hands reached up and looped around his neck, bringing his head down to her throat again. He nibbled there for a moment as he slid his hands down to her shoulders, massaging her gently. She murmured her enjoyment, and he continued his exploration down her arms to her fingers, squeezing each digit until she was practically purring under his touch. His teeth found that spot between her shoulder and neck as his hands glided up her taught belly to her breasts. His big hands palmed each globe, squeezing them softly as he nipped at her scar and rubbed his groin against her erotically.

Gasping, Buffy ignored his question and turned around to face him. She blinked open her heavy lidded eyes and gazed up at him lovingly. "Mmmm, I think I could ask you the same question, you know?" she said, lips twitching as she glanced pointedly at his burgeoning erection. "You seem to have as much—if not _more_ energy that I do, Agent Booth," she teased. He went to pull her to him, but she pushed away and snatched up the soap. "My turn," she said, slapping his hands away when he went to grab her again. She gave him a flirtatious wink as she lathered up her hands. "It's your own fault you know?" she mused as she ran her soapy hands along his shoulders. "If you weren't so nummy, I might be able to resist the temptation…" She leaned up and took a gentle nip out of one flat male nipple before her lathered hands followed, gliding along the smooth muscles of his chest and down over the hard ridges of his abdomen and lower… "But since you _are _completely mack-able, I guess you're stuck with a woman who can't get enough of you," she said, flashing an unrepentant, impish smile.

Her soap-slicked hand wrapped around him and he swallowed hard, his body responding instantly to her touch. "You _are_ going to kill me," he murmured, closing his eyes and letting out a soft groan as she stroked him to full hardness.

His head was tipped back, exposing the strong column of his neck, and he made a soft sound of pleasure in the back of his throat as she moved her hand up and down the rigid length of his cock. Buffy's mouth watered as she watched his throat muscles convulse as he swallowed thickly. Her breathing accelerated as she hurriedly rinsed him off. "I can't wait anymore...let's test that theory…" she panted, and before he could guess her intentions, she dropped to her knees and took him into her mouth.

He froze, eyes widening in surprise when her her lips wrapped around him. "Shit!" he cursed softly, tangling his fingers in her hair as she laved the head of his cock with her tongue, swirling it around the tip and lapping up the pearly drop of pre-cum gathered there. He clutched her head, fingers digging into her scalp when she began to bob her head up and down his penis, taking him deeper each time. He glanced down, eyes glazing over at the erotic sight of her giving him a blow-job. "Buffy!" he hissed in pleasure when she lightly scraped her teeth along the shaft of his cock.

She looked up and their eyes locked as she opened her throat and swallowed him all the way down. "Oh God!" he gasped and tossed his head back, ignoring the sharp little pain that went through him as his head bounced off the tiles of the shower. He barely noticed. The pleasure of her mouth was far too amazing to care about that tiny hurt. She stroked and licked every inch of him as she sucked his cock deeper into her mouth, up and down—until he was gripping her head with trembling fingers, and babbling little nonsensical murmurs of encouragement. He struggled to hold off his climax, but when her hand slipped between his thighs to cup and roll his testicles in her hand, his eyes shot open, and he tried to pull her off him.

"Wait!" he gasped. She paused and he looked down at her. "I'm close—really close…" he explained, not wanting to surprise her by coming in her mouth. He needn't have worried, she wore such a naughty look of lust in her brilliant hazel eyes, that his knees wobbled. "Are you sure?" he asked. Her answer was clear as she re-doubled her efforts, sucking him all the way down again and humming while rolling and playing with the tightening sacs between his legs. It was too much. He let out a deep groan and his eyes clenched shut. His fingers clutched her head like a life-line as he gritted his teeth and held onto her for dear life as a powerful orgasm tingled its way from his testicles and into his belly. It spread out, sizzling along every nerve until his body was nothing more than a shuddering mass of sensations. "Buffy!" he gasped, as he balanced precariously on the precipice of mindless abandon, just waiting for the final push that would send him over the edge.

She bit down on the head of his penis lightly and that did it. His knees buckled as his orgasm hit him like a Mack truck slamming into his gut. "Oh God-Buffy!" he choked as his hips jerked forward and he ejaculated his thick, hot semen down her eager throat. He babbled meaningless nothings as his orgasm went on and on, until with a final spurt, he crumbled against the wall, exhausted.

She held onto his hips, swallowing convulsively until she felt him sag with pleasure, her Slayer strength came in handy to keep him on his feet as she swallowed every drop with eager abandon. After a moment, Buffy lifted her head, gave his softening penis a gentle kiss on the tip before getting to her feet. She licked her lips exaggeratedly. "I think you're energy is just fine…"

"Oh God--that was..." His words trailed off as he warily noticed the way her eyes traveled over him hungrily. "I can't," he whined, closing his eyes with a groan and a small prayer for the stamina to keep up with her. Her hands began to roam his body and he opened one eye tiredly. "Are you _trying_ to kill me?"

She giggled and continued her exploration of his magnificent form. "But what a way to go, hmmm?" she teased, taking his hand and putting it between her thighs.

He growled softly as he felt how wet and swollen she was. He whispered her name reverently as he slid to his knees. "Yeah," he agreed softly as he palmed her ass and lifted her up towards his waiting mouth. He glanced up at her from his position between her legs and winked. "At least I'll go out with a smile, right?" he joked, flashing her that lazy half smile before he spread her thighs wide and lowered his head, enthusiastically returning the favor she'd just bestowed upon him.

************

An hour and a half later they finally made it out of the room. Buffy had just shut the door when she remembered her sister. "Oh my God!" she exclaimed. "I need to go by the bar and give Dawn her key."

She slid the key-card back in the lock, and hurried back inside. "Got it," she said, grabbing Dawn's key off the nightstand. "Whew!" she said, waving it as she came back out of the room. "She would have pulled a major Cordy had I locked her out!"

Booth paused. His head tilted and he gave her a puzzled look. "A Cordy? What's that?"

Buffy could have smacked herself for bringing up the brunette that had become so disgustingly important to Angel. "It's…" She paused, trying to decide how to proceed. If he recognized the name—the jig may be up, but she couldn't keep twisting the truth either—it would eventually bite her in the ass. "It's a saying we have," she said, swallowing hard as she threw caution to the wind and told the truth. "It's for a girl we all once knew. Her name was Cordelia—Cordy for short. She was kind of a princess—we called her Queen C, as a matter of fact." He still hadn't said anything, so she went on. "Anyhow, 'pulling-a-Cordy' just kind of became an inside joke…it means you're having a fit—or being a diva, ya know?" she replied, studying his reaction intently.

A few tense seconds ticked by before he simply shrugged and cracked a joke about knowing girls like that too. "They're usually more trouble than they're worth," he said.

Buffy let out the breath she was holding. He didn't remember Cordelia. She was stunned, but exuberant and barely restrained herself from doing a little happy dance down the hallway. There wasn't even a trace of recognition in his beautiful eyes, and she couldn't help but compare the fact that he'd told _her _she felt familiar to him. Guess Cordy didn't make the same impression! She flashed him a grin. "Can we stop by the bar so I can give it to her?"

He too her hand in his and brought it to his lips. "Sure," he said, basking in the brilliance of her radiant smile. They headed for the elevators, holding hands and chatting animatedly, but in a casual manner, that bespoke years of dating, rather than days.

She asked him about his son, and he was eager to tell her all about him. Buffy couldn't stop the tiny glances full of longing she shot his way as he talked about the boy. His eyes sparkled when he talked about Parker and Buffy's breath caught at how handsome he was. Maybe even more beautiful than when she'd first met him because he'd lost that agonized look that Angel had worn like a mantel of shame. They got in the elevator and he pushed the button for the lobby and Buffy continued to covertly study him. Human, he was more rugged looking. He had stubble and he just looked older, not as pretty maybe, but still hot. She sighed. It was more than just the looks though. Booth exuded confidence. He was sexy and self assured, the kind of guy that took charge--the kind of man you could depend on and not just in the worst of times. While Angel had liked to keep to the shadows--he was confident, but he didn't like drawing attention to himself unless it was necessary. They were so alike, yet so not. It was confusing. She squeezed his hand, smiling when he leaned down and brushed a kiss along her brow. She honestly couldn't remember being this happy or this nervous…at least not since the night of her seventeenth birthday.

What was she going to do if he ever did remember? She knew Angel would be furious with her for keeping his past a secret. She pushed the thoughts away as they exited the elevator and headed for the Hotel bar. She had to talk to Whistler again.

When they entered the establishment neither the blond nor her sister were in sight. Booth moved towards the front of bar to question the bartender, while Buffy hesitated and looked towards the dimly lit tables towards the back—if she knew Spike, and she did, he'd be back there somewhere. She heard her sister's drunken giggle before she actually saw either of them, but when she spotted them, her eyes flashed dangerously as she took in the near empty bottle of Jack Daniels and the numerous glasses that littered the table. "You've got to be kidding me," she muttered to herself as she made her way to their table. She was livid by the time she got there. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" she spat, glaring daggers at Spike as she took in her sister's obvious drunkenness.

It was at that moment Booth materialized next to her. "I told you this guy was bad news," he growled into Buffy's ear.

She rolled her eyes at him. "_Soo not_ wanting to hear that right now, okay?" She turned back to Spike. "I trusted you with her and you what? Go out and get her shit faced?"

Dawn swept her long dark hair back from her face. "Hey, it'sh Buffy…Hi Buffy, what are you doing here?" She swayed back and forth, leaned her elbow on the table and put her hand over one eye as she stared up at them. "Buffy and…uh-oh…" Her words trailed off and she turned and blinked at Spike owlishly. "Shpike, why ish Angel here? Are we in terouble?" she asked, slurring her words.

Buffy's heart stopped, and her eyes flew to Booth, but he seemed to have missed that Dawn had just called him Angel.

Spike hadn't though and he saw a stake coming with his name on it if he didn't stop Dawn's drunken ramble. "Okay, Bit...you're sis is right. We've had a bit much. I think it's time to get you up and to your room." He stood and started to lead Dawn out of the bar, but Buffy grabbed his arm.

"No. You stay—I'll take her." She shoved Spike back and he crashed into the table, knocking over the bottle and sending a few of the glasses falling to the floor. She glanced at Booth. "I'll be right back." she said.

Booth's brows rose as Spike flew back much harder than expected, but instead of questioning how Buffy had managed that with one hand, he nodded, and watched as Buffy half dragged, half carried her sister out of the bar before he turned back to the blond vampire laying half across the table. He snickered at Spike's unglamorous position. "I knew you were a pansy," he smirked, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

Spike jumped up, sending the table tipping again and the bottle crashing to the floor. "Me?! You're calling me a pansy, when you're the bloody poof who likes Barry Manilow?"

The bartender came over, but Booth waved him off with a flash of his badge. "What are you talking about?" He rolled his eyes. "Barry Manilow?!" He made a face. "I'm more a Foreigner kind of guy, pal." He stared into Spike's hostile blue eyes and snorted with amusement at the anger there. "You're jealous," he taunted. "Get a grip, man. She doesn't love you, so get over it already!" he said and waved a hand at the mess around the tipped over table. "And pick this crap up too, then go and get yourself a room because there's no way in hell you're staying with Buffy," he said, lifting his chin as if daring/hoping Spike would disagree.

Spike's mouth dropped at how Angel-like Booth looked and sounded right then. The sound of his voice--everything was the same--except the disgusting love for Barry Manilow that is. Spike grinned. "Well, at least they got rid of that—good for them."

Booth rolled his eyes. "Whatever, just get this shit cleaned up, Spike."

"Bloody hell," Spike said, and suddenly he threw his arms around the startled Agent and hugged him, much to Booth's confusion and utter horror. "I never thought I'd hear you call me that again…I thought I'd lost ya, ya great poof..." he said softly.

Seeley shoved him away with a growl. "Jeez, get some counseling--and quit calling me a poof!" he snapped, giving Spike another rough push. Spike stumbled back into the table again and sent the rest of the shot glasses toppling to the floor. Booth put his fists on his hips and glared at the blond vampire. "What the hell is wrong with you, man? Look, I don't know how they do things in jolly old England, but in America, men don't grope each other unless…" He sputtered to a stop and scowled as he tried to find the words to explain without getting into details. "Well, they just don't, unless it's somekind of...mutual-thing, or they want to get shot." he made a shooing motion with his hands. "So just keep your hands to yourself, alright, and maybe I won't have to kill you..."

Spike was drunk and his mouth ran away with him. "But we've shared so much, Angelus—how can you not remember?"

That name struck him and Booth froze. "What did you just call me?"he choked out, staring at the smaller man, wide eyed. And then like a drunken blackout coming back, his brain began to flash with images of himself and Spike. They both had longer hair and they were in a dimly lit room, lying side by side on a huge bed, kissing a skinny brunette that lay in between them. The woman moaned and clutched at his long haired self, bringing him down to her neck—she was whimpering and writhing against him. He felt so hungry, and he sensed a need for something, but Spike pulled his head away from the woman just as he was going to indulge whatever he needed from her. "Angelus," the blond whispered and then Spike's face changed into something that looked like a monster.

It was only a brief second of a visual, but Booth's head pounded and his stomach churned. He shook his head vigorously, effectively wiping the disturbing image from his head. "What the hell?" he gasped, backing away from Spike just as Buffy entered the bar.

She took one look at Booth's pale, stricken face and her eyes narrowed dangerously on Spike. "What did you do?" she growled menacingly.

****Later:****

Dr. Wyatt called just after Buffy had arrived back at the bar, interrupting what might have become a serious beating for Spike. The blond vampire had breathed an audible sigh of relief at the interruption when Dr. Wyatt had requested Booth to come by and so the Agent had asked Buffy if she minded stopping by his house real quick before they went out. Booth had explained his hopes that the good Dr. was finally ready to sign the paper that would return him to active duty. Buffy had agreed, and now they were heading over there.

Booth was unusually quiet as he maneuvered through the D.C. traffic, and Buffy kept stealing nervous glances at him. He had 'Angel-face' and it was making her jumpy as she wondered what Spike had said to him. The silence was thick and getting thicker and Buffy wrung her hands, hating the tension. "Are you sure that's all it was—just Spike hugging you?" she finally asked again, praying he'd open up and just tell her what had put him in the 'Joe-quiet-guy-brood-mode'.

He nodded, but his face said there was more to it, so of course, Buffy couldn't let it go. "Cause if you want to talk about it…I'll listen." She held her hair back and flashed a teasing smile. "Look all ears…Listening Buffy—that's me…" she babbled, getting more and more fidgety the longer he was pensive and quiet.

His brows drew down and he shook his head. "It's—" he stopped and scowled. "It's nothing, let it go already."

She frowned. "But Seeley—" She started but was cut off by his sharp growl of anger.

"Just drop it, dammit!" he snapped. "Or do I have to explain everything your little boy toy said to me?"

Buffy reared back as if he'd slapped her. "I—no. Shutting up now," she said turning away. "Sorry. I won't bring it up again." She blinked her eyes furiously as ridiculous tears overflowed. Booth had never talked to her like that. It was shocking and painful. "Maybe you should tell Gordon Gordon whatever it is Spike said to you, since you won't tell me," she shot back, staring out the passenger window as she tried to get her emotions back under control.

"Buffy it's not—" He sighed. "Look, it was just something weird. I don't even understand it myself." He glanced at her sideways, noticed she wouldn't look at him, and reached out and took her hand. "I'm sorry I snapped at you," he apologized. "It's just—can we not talk it, okay?" he asked, squeezing her hand gently.

Buffy nodded, but her stomach was still churning. "Sure. Color me 'Quiet-Girl' from here on out," she said, pulling her hand free and wiping at her eyes, hating the tears that wouldn't seem to stop.

He couldn't help but notice she was crying and frowned. "Please don't cry. I'm sorry," he said softly. Buffy turned huge green eyes on him and he felt sick at the pain written so clearly across her expressive face. "Look, I'm still trying to figure out what happened back there. I'm not shutting you out… I just don't know what happened honestly. One minute your weird friend was hugging me—the next I was having some kind of hallucination or something," he muttered, and shook his head. "Can we drop this?" he asked. She nodded and he breathed a sigh of relief. "Let's just say I don't like Spike, and leave it at that, okay?"

Buffy took a deep calming breath, and nodded. "Okay," she said in a subdued voice. "I'm sorry, Seeley." She was furious at Spike. Once again he'd done her in. She just wasn't sure how this time, but she was absolutely sure he'd done or said _something_ that had put Seeley in this mood. She wanted to kick herself. Why had she left them alone, even for the few minutes it had taken to get Dawn upstairs? Her sister had passed out immediately after Buffy had forced her to take a few aspirin and put her to bed. Buffy had immediately hurried back to the bar, so she couldn't have been gone any longer than five to ten minutes, tops. What had Spike said to him? She had just decided she was going to bring Mr. Pointy out of retirement just for Spike, when Booth stopped the truck.

He leaned across the seat and buried his hand in her hair. "Look…I'm sorry I took it out on you." He brushed his mouth against hers in tender apology. "I don't want to fight. It actually hurts," he said, obviously trying to ease the tension between them. "You warned me about him—I should have listened. He's a moron, you know that, right?"

Buffy chuckled, more than eager to let this go too—even though she knew she shouldn't. She really should get to the bottom of whatever was upsetting him, but she was feeling pretty cowardly right about now and had no desire to question him any further. She couldn't lose him again. She just couldn't. "Yeah, I'm a little _too_ aware of Spike's penchant for saying stupid things, trust me," she said. She clutched him to her. "I don't want to fight either. I love you," she whispered, kissing him almost desperately.

Booth gave in to her desperation and kissed her back just as heatedly. Several long moments later, they broke apart breathing heavily. He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "Forgive me?" he asked, flashing her that amazing smile of his.

Buffy melted. "Always," she whispered.

His smile widened. "I still don't know how this happened so fast, but I love you, Buffy," he said softly, shaking his head in wonder. Her face lit up at his declaration. He cupped her cheek and ran his thumb along the swollen curve of her lower lip. "Be right back," he said, leaning in to brush a kiss across her mouth again, before he grabbed his paper, and hopped out of the truck.

Buffy's fingers went to her lips as she watched him go. They were still tingling. He's the only one to ever make her feel like that. Then she remembered what had happened at the hotel. Her brows snapped down as she grabbed her cell and dialed Spike's number. After several rings he answered.

"Bloody hell, the world had better be ending, Slayer?" he grumbled by way of a hello.

She was just as curt. "Yours will be if you don't tell me_ exactly_ what happened back at the hotel between you and Booth!"

Spike groaned. "Bollocks. It figures, one sodding slip of the tongue and me whole bleeding world falls apart, but that wanker can call me whatever he wants and nothing—no irritating phone calls to chastise him, right?"

"Spike! I didn't call to hear you whine—get a therapist for that. What the hell did you say to him?"

He sighed and told Buffy what had happened.

Her brows got lower and lower as she listened. "You're an idiot—you know that right? What the hell were you thinking calling him, Angelus?" she growled. She glanced out the window, noticed Booth coming back to the truck and hurried to end the conversation. "Make yourself scarce, Spike. I mean it, the way I'm feeling right now, I just might decide to come out of retirement and stake your sorry ass. Gotta go—stay away from Dawn too!" she snapped and hung up.

Booth opened her door. "Dr. Wyatt wants to meet you," he muttered, looking embarrassed.

Buffy's jaw dropped. "He wants to…?" Her words trailed off and she gave him a puzzled look. "Why?"

Again he looked away. "I…" He cleared his throat and Buffy saw a slight flush creep up his neck. "I might have…um…mentioned you…" he said vaguely, looking everywhere, but in her eyes.

Her face brightened. He looked so cute, like he'd been caught passing love notes in school or something. "Might have?" she teased, but she placed her hand in his and hopped out of the SUV. "Lead the way—is there anything you don't want me to mention—like maybe what a stallion you are or something like that?"

He shot her a look, rolled his eyes, but laughed softly. "Yeah, mentioning that really isn't necessary. He already thinks I'm a deviant because I shot the clown," he muttered, but he squeezed her hand gently as they made their way up the walkway, "Thanks, and sorry for putting you in the middle like this."

Buffy grinned. "Not a prob. Hey, anyone named Gordon, Gordon can't be too bad, right?"

_****Okay guys…I had intended this to be longer, but I decided to break it off here because I didn't want this to be a marathon chappie. I wanted to get it posted. So you know the drill—feed my musie-beast, and she feeds me and then we're all happy little campers, right?? lol! :) :) :)**_


	9. Chapter 9

**Still His Girl**

**A fic by: Jen**

**rating: M**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing!! Waah!**

**Oklay a very short A/N guys. Thank you for R&Ring. I'll be sending out replies tomorrow, so please don't lynch me!!**

**I also have a list of amazing authors on my profile page...Go and check it out. Have a fantabulous day!!**

**Jen**

****Chappie 9****

It was obvious Booth was uncomfortable as he introduced Buffy to Dr. Wyatt, but Buffy rather liked him. He reminded her a bit of Giles—maybe it was the accent or the love of tea, but either way he immediately endeared himself to her when he commented on what a dashing couple her and Booth made.

Dr. Wyatt excused himself to get refreshments and Booth rolled his eyes. "Dashing couple? Who actually says that?"

Buffy grinned. "Gordon Gordon I guess, and I happen to agree, so don't poke fun."

His expression turned playful. "You agree, huh?" He wagged his brows at her and flashed that smile of his that never failed to make her knees weak. "You think we're dashing?"

Buffy's face flushed at the heated look in his eyes. "Don't give me that look, Seeley—I don't want to embarrass myself by jumping you in front of Dr. Gordon Gordon."

A few minutes later Dr. Wyatt came back out carrying a tray laden with cups and a small pot. He handed Buffy a glass. "I brought tea for us and coffee for Agent Booth here since I've found he seems to take issue with men drinking tea together."

Buffy giggled when Booth shot Dr Wyatt a scowl and explained he was just more of a coffee guy. "Real men don't do tea, doc," he said sarcastically.

"And that is why I brought you coffee," Wyatt said and handed Booth a cup.

Booth took a sip, made a face and set the cup on the table. "That's not coffee," he complained.

"It's not?" Wyatt asked. "Well, what is it then?"

"I don't know what the hell it is, but that isn't coffee." He made a face and pushed the cup away as if it was contagious.

Dr. Wyatt glanced at Buffy. "He tends to do things rather well, doesn't he?"

Buffy's mind flashed to just 'how well' he did a few things and to her horror her face turned the shade of a ripe apple. She sputtered to give a suitable reply that had nothing to do with her dirty thoughts. "Um… his fellow Agents seemed to have a lot of respect for him when they questioned me about the clown thingy, so yeah, I'd say he's a good Agent," she said, resisting the urge to fan her face lest she give away how embarrassed she was.

If Dr. Wyatt noticed the color of her face he didn't make mention of it. "Yes, I would imagine they do. He expects the best from himself whether it's solving crimes, raising a son, building barbeque machines or making coffee. Anything less would seem a failure to him, would you agree, Miss Summers?"

Booth crossed his arms as he leaned back in his chair. "First, that wasn't coffee, and that's not really a machine…" he grumbled, motioning to the completed barbeque pit. "And I'd appreciate you not talking about me like I'm one of your experiments, doc. I'm sitting right here, ya know?"

Dr. Wyatt smiled at Booth pleasantly. "Yes, I do realize that, Agent Booth, but it was obvious from the way you left yesterday that Miss Summers here is important to you, so I'm quite interested in her opinion of you."

Another blush rose to her cheeks. "Please call me Buffy, only my teachers called me Miss. Summers."

Dr. Wyatt nodded. "Very well then, Buffy, how would you describe Agent Booth?"

Buffy glanced at Booth. He had that 'deer in the headlight' look Angel used to get and he tugged at his collar, clearly showing he was uncomfortable. Her smile was tender as she answered the question. "I'd say he's a strong man—definitely brave and passionate about his beliefs. He sticks to them too, no matter what. He loves his son and would do anything for him." Buffy got a far-a-way look in her eyes as she spoke and her voice turned husky. "He's a hero. Perceptive, but he's not 'Joe-here's-what-I'm-thinking-guy' when it comes to sharing his burdens. He'll protect the ones he loves, even when it hurts himself. He takes his responsibilities very seriously—sometimes too seriously," she said as she thought of Angel and also what Booth had shared about the Howard Epps thing.

She sighed. "He'll carry the weight of the world on his back and feels guilty for things that weren't his fault…" She glanced at Dr. Wyatt. "I think he wants to save everyone—even when he can't, but that's because he has the most beautiful soul…It just shines and when he smiles, it's like…" Her face flushed and her words trailed off as she realized Booth was gaping at her with a slack-jawed expression on his handsome face, and Dr. Wyatt's brows were almost into his hairline.

She swallowed hard. She'd said too much, _and_ she'd mixed Angel in with Booth in her description. She took a deep breath, prayed they both didn't think she was insane, and turned to Wyatt. "Um…okay. Not to sound too peachy-with a side of-keen, but Seeley is a good man, Dr. Wyatt." She reached out and squeezed Booth's hand; who was still staring at her in a kind of stunned silence. "One who let too many pressures build up and just kind of did the wacky one day, but that doesn't mean it'll ever happen again. He's too much 'the hero' to ever do something like that again, especially when it's interfered with his ability to do his job."

Dr. Wyatt nodded. "Well done, Miss—ahem, Buffy," he said. "Very well done, indeed and I agree with you one hundred percent. Agent Booth has already admitted to not being in control that day and for a man like him to admit that he relinquished control—that could arguably put him in the frame of mind to draw his weapon and fire at an unsuspecting clown…would you agree?"

Buffy glanced at Booth, she felt weird talking about him with him sitting right there. "Um—yeah. I think control is important to him," she said.

Booth frowned. "Is that a bad thing?" He scowled at Dr. Wyatt. "And I didn't actually shoot a clown—you make it sound like it was walking around making balloon animals—it was a speaker that looked like a clown, alright?"

Gordon Wyatt shook his head. "Yes, it was, but wouldn't you say that losing control for you can become a bad thing when in a fit of pique you discharge your weapon in a public thoroughfare."

Booth nodded. "I'm a good shot though—no one was in danger—not really."

"Yes, military sniper. I saw that in your file. Do you feel guilty for those kills, Agent Booth?"

Booth shrugged, but his hand tightened around Buffy's and only her Slayer-ness kept her from gasping out loud in pain. He loosened his hold as if suddenly realizing he might be hurting her. "I did my job," he hedged.

Buffy's eyes narrowed. She knew he felt guilty about it, why wasn't he admitting it? As if feeling her disapproval, Booth glanced her way, saw the confusion in her eyes and sighed. "Yeah, sometimes," he admitted. Dr. Wyatt waited and Booth took a deep breath and continued. "There's one. This Serbian General—he and his men used to raid the villages nearby killing everyone—women and kids—no one survived when he attacked. I was sent in to stop him. The day of the mission—it was his kid's birthday…he was young…six or seven at the most—they were having a party." Buffy scooted closer to him, holding his hand as he talked.

Booth smiled at her, and squeezed her hand back. "What kills me is that little boy didn't know what his father was. He just loved him, and I can't help thinking what did that kid think when he saw his father fall right there in front of him?" Booth swallowed hard and his breath hitched as he took a deep, ragged breath."I can still hear the music playing in my head and I don't think I'll ever forget that little boy covered in his dad's blood after the shot. It's never just the one person who dies—other people suffer—die too," he whispered.

She was reminded of how a part of her died when Angel died and Buffy felt sick. He was right in that, but she also knew the memory he was describing had never happened and she wanted to smack the Powers for giving him that kind of memory. What kind of game were they playing? They give Angel back his humanity, but still punish him—it wasn't fair. She held Booth's hand, but she wanted to crawl up in lap, cradle his head to her breast and just hold him.

He glanced at Booth. "You do realize Agent Booth you that was again a situation you had no control over?" Booth nodded slowly and Gordon Wyatt sighed. "Well, I think we've made excellent progress. This is as close to a beginning where we can start, wouldn't you agree?"

Booth frowned. Huh?"

"For our session—this would be a marvelous place to start, right?"

Booth looked confused, but then Wyatt reassured him. "Did you, by chance bring your release paper??"

Surprised Booth gaped at him. "What? Oh yeah, right—the paper—yeah, I have it…" he dug in his pocket, "right here," he said, handing it to the British doctor.

Dr. Wyatt signed the paper with a flourish. "There we are…" he handed the paper back to Booth. "Now you know what? I think I've changed my mind and I'd love to have you bring over a couple of those—what did you call them…? Oh yes, prime rib-eyes you suggested. Would that still be amenable to you?"

Booth nodded, patted his jacket pocket where the paper was tucked and smiled. "Just name the time and place, doc," he said.

"Very well," Dr. Wyatt stood. "It was a pleasure to me you, Buffy."

The ex-Slayer shook his hand. "You too Dr. Gordon, Gordon."

The doctor smiled and Booth and Buffy left after Booth scheduled a follow up appointment.

Gordon Wyatt waited for them to drive away before he sat down at his desk, and picked up the phone. He dialed the over-seas number, letting it ring and ring until it was answered. "Rupert? Gordon here." He paused as Giles grumbled about how late it was. "Yes, well I'm sorry to disturb you like this, but it simply cannot wait. It's about your Slayer…" That got Giles' attention and the ex-Watcher was all ears after that. "No, I haven't seen any of the Council's hired thugs, but we both know they're either here or will be shortly. Which brings me to why I called…they were here tonight. I asked him to bring her along to his appointment." Gordon paused as Giles questioned why he would do such a thing when they were trying to separate them. "Because my good man, I wanted to see them interact—" Gordon paused as he listened to Giles concerns regarding Buffy's feelings for the now ex-vampire. "Yes, you were right. She is still very much in love with him, Rupert. She will fight—no. I'd even go so far as to say she'd bloody well die to save him."

Gordon opened the bottom drawer of his desk and retrieved a thick, leather bound book. He placed it on his desk and began to flip through the worn pages carefully. "You know as well as I, we can't allow either of them to come to harm. They are too important to the balance of good and evil. Unfortunately the Council's new regime is too blinded by their hatred of Angelus to see that." Gordon paused, and expelled a long sigh. "So…my old friend, what do you suggest we do now, hmm? We no longer have the time to ponder this situation—we must act." He glanced down at the page he'd been looking for. It was spell to bring about repressed memories. "He must be able to protect himself, Rupert. I know you wanted to avoid this, but the Council isn't leaving us a choice. I suggest we give him back his memory."

**Church Cemetery: Early morning.**

"This cemetery has been connected to our parish for almost two hundred years," Father Matthew Sands said, trudging through calf deep muck and dirt as he and Dr Brennan walked along the flooded grounds of the cemetery. He waved a hand at a coffin lying half open. "Last night a water main bursts—coffins were bursting out of the ground…It was horrible," he said wincing at the sight of the upheaval all around him.

Brennan went over to the coffin. "I'm going to need burial records to identify the bodies," she said as she crouched down beside the coffin to examine the remains inside. "Alright, let's see. It's a female…forty to fifty years old, with severe osteoporosis." She glanced up at the Priest. "Dress and jewelry would suggest the burial was around the late 19th century."

Father matt nodded. "Many of the cemeteries…um…residents are from that time period," he said.

Just then an older man dressed in the robes of a priest came bounding through the thick goopy mud. "What's going on here?" he demanded angrily. He turned to Father Matt. "What do you think you're doing? Loraine said you're giving them the burial records?" The priest's face was bright red. "Who gave you that right? Those records are my responsibility. Mine! Not yours!"

Father Matt looked away, obviously embarrassed at the older priests disrespect. "I'm sorry. I was only trying to help them identify the remains, Father Donlan. I didn't see the harm in it."

Father Donlan glared at the younger priest. "I still run this parish Father Matthew. You cannot just make decisions without consulting me."

Brennan approached the two holding a skull. Father Matt turned to her. "Father Donlan, this is Dr. Brennan from the Jeffersonian…" he glanced at Zack. "And this is—"

Zack stepped forward. "I'm Dr. Addy. Are you one of those priests who smacks school children with rulers?"

Father Donlan stepped back, obviously offended. He frowned. "That's not allowed anymore," he replied, tugging at his collar.

Zack nodded while Brennan began bagging the skull. "We'll need those burial records, Father," she said to Father Matt, placing an evidence tag on the bagged skull. She glanced at Father Donlan. "And since this is a federally protected historic site I'll expect you to comply."

Father Donlan nodded. "Fine, but I'll expect you two to show some respect. This is consecrated ground," he huffed.

Brennan gave a brief eye roll at tat before she noted something on the skull and pulled it partially from the bag for closer study. She turned to look at Father Donlan. "When did you say the last person to be buried here was?" she asked.

The old priest waved a hand at her negligently. "1951," he said. "Why do you ask?"

Tempe shook her head. "That is inconsistent with the evidence, Father. This skull belongs to a male, buried no more than five years ago." She bagged the skull again. "I'm sorry Father, but there is no way this body was buried here in a casket." She dusted off her hands. "Your consecrated ground just became my crime-scene," she stated, ignoring the old priest's angry gaze,

When she ignored him, Father Donlan puffed up like a fighting rooster. "That's impossible!" His brows snapped down. "I don't care what you think you've found—I want you to leave…now!" he snapped. He shot a venomous glare at Father Matt before he strode off towards the rectory.

Brennan watched him go before she glanced at Zack. "I want you to arrange for a forensic team to get down here before any other evidence is washed away." She took off her gloves off with a snap."Call Hodgins. He'll want to be here to collect soil for bugs and particulates." She took out her cell phone. "I'll call Sully and have this area declared a crime scene."

She glanced at father Matt as Sully's line rang. "I'm going to need those burial records Father," she reminded him."

**Booth's bedroom:**

Buffy awoke to soft kisses being trailed from her neck, down her arms, to her fingers. Each digit was suckled lightly before he gave the tip a gentle bite. She giggled and rolled over. "Mmmm, are you trying to take advantage of me while I'm sleeping? Shame on you, Agent Booth and here I was thinking you're all 'Joe-gentleman-guy'."

He chuckled huskily. "I am a gentleman, but waking up with you in my bed…" He laced their fingers, braced his body weight on his arms and rose above her. "Well you can't really blame me for getting turned on, now can you?" he said, swooping down to nip at her neck playfully.

Buffy arched her body to give him better access to all her secret spots, especially his mark. He still had a fascination for her throat and it made her wet. Maybe it was the sick side of her Slayer-ness, but ever since Angel/Angelus had marked her, she loved the bite. Well, actually she loved _his _bite—she'd let Spike take a tiny taste once, but it hadn't been anywhere near as satisfying—actually, it hadn't been satisfying at all, and she'd thought she was cured of that desire. That is until Angel came back the day before Sunnydale imploded…

She was snapped back to the present when he nibbled at her scar. She clutched at his head, and tunneled her fingers into his hair as her body shivered with desire. "Yes!" she cried, pressing his mouth closer to that spot. "Please…" she whined, turning her head and raising her hips in an obvious plea for all of him.

Booth complied. He bit down on that puckered flesh at the exact moment he entered her. They both groaned low and deep, but Buffy came immediately. He didn't wait for her to ride out her climax. It was morning sex and he was hard and aching for release. He pulled out only to plunge back in. His thrusts were hard and strong as he sought relief too. She tightened her knees on his hips and angled her pelvis as she rocked with him, moving in time with the driving rhythm he'd set.

He lifted her thigh higher on his hip, so he could get deeper with each stroke. His eyes rolled as she tightened those amazing muscles. "Buffy!" he gasped as he felt his belly and balls tighten, signaling impending orgasm. His hand went between them and he played with her clit, rolling that sensitive bundle of nerves between his fingers and he angled his pelvis so that his pubic bone slapped against that distended bit of flesh on each down-stroke.

It was too good. Buffy arched up, cradling him to her neck as her thighs tightened around his hips hard. "Oh God! Seeeellleeeyy!" she screamed as a tidal wave of sensation washed over her, leaving her panting and sweating.

Her climax triggered his, and with a deep growl, he braced himself on both arms and drove forward, eyes closed, jaw clenched tight as he pounded into her one, twice more before tossing his head back and crying her name as he spilled himself inside her.

Later after they'd showered and dressed, Booth dropped her off at her hotel. "Why don't I take you and your sister out to lunch today? That way she can actually meet me without your weird friend stalking me—that is."

Buffy giggled. "Lunch would be great, but don't worry about Dawnie. She understands Spike and his strangeness," she said with a smile. "Want us to meet you or…"

He shook his head. "No. I'll pick you up. How does one O'clock sound?"

Buffy couldn't wipe the smile off her face. "Heavenly," she breathed softly.

He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "Buffy, don't look at me like that…It's hard enough—" His words stopped abruptly when she giggled. "Mind out of the gutter Miss Summers," he teased.

She saluted him teasingly. "Yes sir, Agent Booth. Mind above my knees…"

His eyes darkened at that. He leaned over to brush a kiss across her lips. "You're a tease, but remind me to as you to do that later…but naked. It's kind of hot."

The kiss turned into a much longer one than either had planned and when they finally pulled back, both of them were breathing hard. "O-kay, I better…"

Buffy nodded. "Yeah, go. Remove the temptation," she said softly. He went to hop out of the truck to open her door for her, but she stopped him. "Um…I think it's best if you stay here—that is unless you want another embarrassing parking lot memory to add to the last one."

He chuckled. "No. I can honestly say one of those is enough for me, thanks."

"Then I'll get me door. You go—fight crime, save the city and all that."

He grinned. "I'm not BatMan, Buffy."

"Yeah, I know—though I think you'd look hot in a pair of tights," she teased, opening her door.

He rolled his eyes. "So not gonna happen." She went to get out, but he took her hand and dragged her across her seat for one last hard kiss. "I'll see you later," he murmured huskily, letting her go.

Her fingers went to her tingling lips. "Definitely, and be careful," she said. He told her always was and she hopped down from the truck.

As she watched him drive away her stomach fluttered with happiness. Buffy would have never thought she could have this, now she did and she almost felt like pinching herself. Was this real? She turned to go inside and gasped when she came face to face with Whistler.

"You and me—we gotta talk kid," he said.

Buffy nodded, but her gaze was hostile. "Okay, we're going to skip over the 'your timing really sucks' speech, because I've had a _really _great day and night, but I _can_ promise you—if you're here to screw this up—I'm not seventeen anymore, Whistler. I've died for them—twice! I'm done dancing to their tune, so you can go back and tell your bosses to stay the hell out of my business or I will I resort to violence to keep him—the 'clawing-toothy' kind that makes going postal look tame!"

"Hey kid, don't kill the messenger and I'm not here to screw this up—"

"But ya are, boyo, and that's why they sent me…" another voice suddenly said from the sidelines and

Buffy turned to stare at the newcomer. "Great now the Powers are tag-teaming me?" She folded her arms across her chest. "Who are you?"

"Ach lass, now you've gone and hurt me feelings—I met ya once, remember? Actually it was a day you were supposed ta forget…"

Buffy's eyes widened and she gasped as she recognized him. "Doyle?" but you're dead, right?"

The Irish half demon bowed. "In the flesh—well so ta speak, that is…"

"But you're dead—right?"

He shrugged. "Ya know how dyin' is around here—dead one minute alive and kickin' the next. I kinda exist in the in between world. Fixin stuff that needs fixin." He glanced at Whistler. "It was me own idea to give Angel this new life and it was also my idea to put you in it, right?" he said, glancing at Whistler.

"Well, you suggested it. I agreed though," Whistler said, bristling.

Buffy ignored him and focused on Doyle. Her gaze softened. "You were Angel's friend. He loved you—so I'm going to ask you to tell me the truth. Are you here to congratulate me, or are the PTB's trying to pull another fast one on us?"

He looked away and Buffy growled softly. "I knew it! Well guess what? I don't work for them anymore. I'm retired. Note the "tired" part before the 'RE' because that's what I am. Tired—tired of them interfering in my life," she snapped.

"The Powers didn't send us to necessarily break ya up, lass. More like a warning. Like when I used to get those mind crushing visions—this is a one time shot from the Powers to you…" Doyle spoke quickly. "Look Slayer, the council is after him…there isn't a lot of time, so is there somewhere we can go and talk that might be a little less public?" Buffy agreed to take them to her room. Doyle and Whistler followed after her as she led the way.

Doyle grinned. "Hey and maybe we can scrounge up a few refreshments too?" He flashed a very charming grin. "It's been ages since I've had a good glass of Jameson's lass!"

Buffy felt her lips twitch. He was charming that was for sure. "I think I can manage that as long as you're here to help me and not break me and Booth apart."

"So it's Booth now. Ya really are comfortable with him in that role, are ya?"

Buffy nodded. "I miss Angel—I will always love him, but I think he's happier as Booth, does that make sense?"

Doyle nodded as they entered the lobby. "Yeah, actually it does," he commented.

Whistler glanced at Doyle as Buffy pushed the button to summon the elevator. "That was a cheap shot, Irish. You could have given me some warning, you know?" he complained softly.

Doyle grinned. "Sorry mate, but ya gotta admit my investment here is just a tad bigger than yours…" he leaned in closer to Whistler. "Not ta mention you don't have me Princess ta deal with if ya fail." His brows drew down into a worried frown and he shook his head. "She wants me to fix this…and let me tell ya, boyo—when she says 'head on a platter'—she means it, man."

**Jeffersonian, Medico Legal lab:**

Booth watched as the squints examined the body. "You know, Bones…the priest filed a complaint. He said that you made fun of consecrated grounds? Please tell me you didn't do that."

Brennan was leaning over the remains, but she turned to glance at Booth. "No, I didn't, but perhaps I was a bit… colorful," she replied.

Booth's brows furrowed as he tried to decipher just what she meant by that. "Colorful? What does that mean exactly?" He put his hands on his hips. "Just how colorful is colorful to you, Bones?"

"Colorful, as in writer-ly. I didn't call God his invisible friend so I thought I was very respectful considering the circumstances." She replied with a carless shrug. "You know, I _am _a best selling author."

His eyes bulged at hearing God called an invisible friend. "You didn't—?" Booth shook his head. "Great! But you still insulted him Bones, and what does you being an author have to do with anything?" he snapped.

Zack glanced from the 'hero' Agent to his 'Idol & mentor' He didn't comment on what was turning into a religious argument. "The victim is approximately thirty to forty years old. Male with—"

Booth shot him a quelling look and interrupted him. "He's an old-school priest, Bones. You didn't have to do your 'if it isn't rational-it doesn't exist' thing on him, you know?"

Temperance Brennan frowned at him in confusion. "So I'm supposed to walk on eggshells because this man believes that a plot of earth has supernatural properties because someone waved a wand over it?

"No one waves a wand, Bones," Booth griped exasperatedly. "The church doesn't use wands…The grounds are consecrated by a priest with holy water."

She rolled her eyes dramatically. "Fine, holy water then…But just because a priest says a prayer over it doesn't make it any different from the water I drink every day, Booth. So I can't see that ground as anything more than dirt—and evidence."

Booth stepped away from her with a scowl. "Okay, you know what? I can't work with you on this case. Maybe you should call Sully for this one, Bones."

Her eyes widened before she frowned at him. "But I can't call Sully, Booth. We have a personal relationship. That is crossing a line, remember?"

"Well, I can't work with you on this if you're going to be attacking my beliefs."

"What do you mean? This victim was clearly murdered, and that's what we do—we investigate murders."

Booth shrugged, but couldn't resist adding, "By the way…ninety percent of the population believes in God."

Zack leaned over the body as the two partners argued. He flipped on the lighted magnifying glass. "There's evidence of scraping—no, puncture wounds on the Hyoid bone." He glanced up at them. "This definitely requires investigation," he stated.

Brennan took note of Zack's observation before she turned to Booth. "Booth, while I understand we have different beliefs here, I won't agree to a belief I don't have." She gave him an olive branch along with a small smile. "Can't you just be satisfied that if I'm wrong about God, I'll burn in hell?

His brows shot up before he relented with a grin. "Trust me—it's tempting," he said.

Tempe realized he'd forgiven her and smiled in return. "Good, then how about we get back to work? I think we both still want to find out what killed this man. Right?"

Booth glanced at his watch. Ten thirty. He had to meet Buffy soon. Maybe he could call her and have her meet him here. He glanced at Bones, or…maybe not. "Yeah, right," he muttered softly, frowning as he imagined that meeting.

**The Palomar Hotel:**

Buffy paced back and forth. Waves of nervous energy bounced off her and flowed into the two demon's who watched her. "So…let me get this straight." She glared at Doyle. "You're the Powers lackey too and you were sent here to make sure I don't tell Angel who he really is, is that right?" Her angry green eyes drilled into Whistler. "And you're here to take him away from me if necessary, is that about right?" she growled.

Doyle sat on the arm of the couch and sipped his whiskey. He shrugged in his usual easy going manner. "Well lass, to be fair, it was never demanded you not tell him—just a suggestion, ya know?"

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I've seen the PTB's suggestions—they can be ugly."

Whistler sat up. "Look kid, the reason we're here is the council is after him. They figured out he was Angelus and want him neutralized. You can't let that happen."

Buffy stared at him as if he was a moron. "Ya think?" she snapped sarcastically. "Of course I won't let that happen!"

"They're humans coming after him Slayer—what are you gonna do?" Whistler asked gravely.

Buffy turned angry green eyes on him and the silence was long and thick before she nodded her head, all business like now. "I can honestly say—whatever I have to Whistler. And if the Powers don't like it—well too bad," she growled and marched out of the room.

Doyle glanced at the red headed demon. "I can see why Angel loved her—still loves her. She's quite the Warrior isn't she?"

Whistler sighed. "You have no idea, but we can't let her sacrifice herself for him, Doyle. Remember out mission—if worse come to worse—we relocate him, but we save her. The prophecy stated she'd have his baby—that child is prophesied to be the one who brings a balance between good and evil."

"Yeah, yeah," Doyle said. "Wasn't that what they said about Darla's kid too?"

"Connor?" Whistler made a face. "Maybe he could have if he hadn't gone to Quartoth—no one saw what Sahjhan had planned, man. But even if he'd lived through the End of Day's battle—he'd always be a kid born to two vampires. It messed with his head." Whistler got up and poured himself a drink. "This kid—he's a kid born from two heroes since Angel ain't technically a vampire anymore, now is he?"

Doyle hated these political missions. "But she isn't pregnant man! We'd feel it, so what do we do? Just keep playing games with them? I won't do it, and you shouldn't either—just let them be," the Irish demon grumbled.

"And what if the council gets a hold of her? What then?"

Doyle shrugged. "Then we let Buffy do what she does—she's a survivor. I don't see these limey prigs taking her out, if'n yer askin me, boyo."

Whistler grinned. "Well, let's just stay close—just in case, alright?"

Doyle went into the bathroom. Buffy was sitting on the edge of the tub running her hand through the water. "I have to get ready," she said glancing up at him over her shoulder. "Booth is picking me up for lunch." She looked so sad Doyle frowned.

Doyle flashed his winning smile. "Don't despair lass—it's said that you an him—epic!" he crowed. "The love was so deep…it wouldn't die. And the Powers just had to bring ya two back together,"

Buffy rolled her eyes at him. "Then why are you here?"

"Cause the Council ain't playin for the PTB's anymore, lass. They've up and decided they're a force unto themselves…"

Buffy nodded. "Well if they force themselves into my life with Booth—they'll find themselves forced right out," she growled.

She glanced at her watch. "Look, Doyle…it's almost eleven thirty…I have to get ready. Would you mind…?" She shrugged. "I don't know…hanging around?"

He chuckled. "How many little bottles of Irish Whiskey did ya have?"

Buffy giggled. "Enough to keep you happy till tomorrow," she replied.

He winked. "Ach lass, ye've never seen a good Irish lad drink then. A few bottles isn't enough ta keep me satisfied till the morning sun rise…"

She laughed. "Well, then how about you not do the Mr. Magoo drunken shuffle and just hang until I get back from lunch, hmm?"

He sighed as if put upon, but his lips twitched. "Verilly well…but now ya owe me and an Irish lad always collects.."

Buffy grabbed her clothes. "Okay, can I get a side of eeew with that ick? Stop it, Doyle."

He laughed and she couldn't help but smile. "Keep it up and I'll tell Cordy…" she threatened.

His eyes widened and his posture went ram-rod straight. "Huh? What? How did you…? What are ya talking about?"

Buffy giggled. "Did you really think I wouldn't know who 'The Princess' is?" She laughed and rolled her eyes dramatically. "Puh-lease! In Sunnydale she was known as_ Queen_ C. And believe me—she earned that title. It's good to know she stepped down and settled on being simply a Princess just for you…" she teased with a smirk, before shutting the door in Doyle's stunned face.

**Back at the lab:**

Zack glanced up as Camille Saroyan entered his area. "Dr. Saroyan, I've identified some odd post-mortem injuries on the old bodies. Blood vessels appear to have burst here and here," he said pointing to the wrinkled, mummified neck. "And these odd abrasions to the vertebrae here…" He pointed to a spot just under the bodies' ear. "Suggest it was a deep wound—he must have been attacked by an animal before he was struck by the blow that caused the cranio-cerebral trauma that killed him"

Cam nodded. "Good work, Dr. Addy."

"I found traces of gold in some of the abrasions," Hodgins said. "But the weird thing is...this particular gold--it's the gold used to make teeth…"

Cam frowned. "Okay, I don't get it. You found gold that's used to make teeth in the wounds?"

Hodgins nodded, but didn't comment.

Cam waited and neither Zack nor Jack said another word. She crossed her arms and glanced at them, finally she turned a hard eyed gaze on Zack. "Well…what made the wounds?"

Zack shrugged. "That's the thing—" He looked disgusted. "We don't know."

Hodgins glanced around the room grinning. "If you ask me--it looks like a vampire, man."

Zack made a disgusted face. "That is pure speculation and we don't deal in speculation. Now back to the facts," he said drawing Cam's attention back to the case. "The person who ruptured the water main that night was a grave robber. Dr Brennan told me she saw injuries like this in Tibet. Broken bones and bone markings from yanking jewellery and valuables off the remains."

Cam nodded. "Okay, so our grave robber comes to a nice quiet graveyard whenever he's in need of some extra cash—and he what…decides to bite every one he sees?" She made a face. "That seems far-fetched wouldn't you say?"

Hodgins grinned. "I'm telling you--vampire man...they're real."

Cam's brows drew down. "Well that's an interesting theory, but can we come up with another one--one that won't land us all on Enetertainment weekly or in Bellvue?"

****Across town at the Church****

Father Donlan entered the prayer room warily. The demonic thing he'd been hiding since last night growled at him. "Where's my fucking blood, priest?"

"Here," Father Donlan said tossing him two bags of blood.

The animal attacked it. "This is it?" he snarled and ripped them apart, gulping at them, spilling blood everywhere. When they were emptied, he wiped his mouth. "I can't become corporeal on this you moron! I need more!" the demon snarled.

Father Donlan nodded. "I-I can get more."

The creature laughed as it shaped and shifted from demon to human form. "You better priest or when I get my body back--I'll make you pay." The demon smirked. "C'mon father you've served us well all these years--don't wet yourself now and blow it. get me my blood. I'll do the rest."

The priest sighed and headed for the door, shoulders slumped in defeat. "Y-yes, Angelus...I'll get the blood," he whispered, and left the room.

**_**Okay guys, I know it was kind of short, but I wanted to get this posted. Also, for plot purposes, the Bones episodes; "The Bodies in the Book" and "The Boneless Bride in the Water" didn't happen. Sully is still in D.C. and Brennan is still dating him, okay? I just wanted to clarify that because in this next chappie, Buffy will FINALLY meet Brennan**. Now please feed the musie, okay? She is such a review whore!!!_**


	10. Chapter 10

**Still His Girl **

**A fic by: Angel's blue eyed girl**

**Rating: Well this one is tame guys—lol! More plot than smut.**

**Disclaimer: I own none of the Bones characters or BtVS characters. So do not sue me. I simply like to play with them, okay??**

**A/N: This again unbetaed. I am trying very hard to correct my own work, let me know how I do.**

**A/N 2: Thank you so much for the massive response this fic is getting—I am stunned!! :O seriously—fall on the floor stunned! Thank you to all of you who take the time to R&R…it's your reviews that inspire my musie—hence another chappie, and pretty quick too, right? ;)**

**Okay, I have a list a very good authors. Just to name a few—Helmi1, jaymartinez, frosty600, ashesatmidnight, vampirequeen21,seeley'sangel, bangelstheonlywaytogo, Esmerada07,marinfic, Chyna, and of course—my good buddy—Vixangel. If you get a chance—please check out these authors fics, they are amazing!! I also have a new author I just found: You so need to check out her fic "Always" her pen name is GrrArgx.**

**xx**

Chappie 10

**The Palomar Hotel:**

Dawn shook her head as her sister tossed aside yet another outfit, adding to the growing pile of clothes strewn across the bed.

"Buffy," the younger Summers sibling said. "What's the big deal? It's just lunch—what's with the sudden panic in what to wear?" She flashed a teasing smile. "I mean, it's not like you have to impress him anymore—he's already seen you naked."

Buffy rolled her eyes at her sister. "It's not Seeley I'm worried about—and he happens to love my body, by the way!"

Dawn made a face and an *eeeww* sound. "Okay, that was too much information," she said.

Buffy giggled. "You brought it up." She turned back to her clothes, searching for just the right outfit that looked cute and hip, but sophisticated. "I'm meeting his partner—or I should say we're meeting his partner. The Bones lady."

Dawn still looked puzzled. "So? What's the big deal? Booth is with you, not her, so why do you care what she thinks?"

Buffy's brows drew down. "I 'Googled' her," she admitted. Buffy bit her lip and a look of insecurity crossed her pretty face. "Dawnie, she's done everything. Not only is she like some world famous forensic anthropologist, but she's a best selling author, she's volunteered her services to war-torn countries all over the world _and _she solves crime with my honey!" Buffy blew out a frustrated breath. "And I'm like the poster child for unemployment!"

Dawn frowned. "No you're not. You've done more than your share." Her eyes widened. "Don't tell me you're jealous?"

Buffy shrugged. "Not really jealous so much as feeling inferior." She sighed. "She's done all that and really--what have I done? On paper the only job I've ever had was at some greasy fast food burger place. If you 'Google' me it says 'no results found' in other words I'm a loser who's done nothing 'Google-worthy'!" the retired Slayer said with a pout.

Dawn giggled until she realized Buffy was totally serious. Her jaw hung. "You're kidding, right?" Buffy gave another small shrug, but her shoulders were slumped and Dawn's eyes widened. "Buffy, you've saved the world! And not just once either," she stated determinedly. She crossed her arms and smirked. "Let's see Miss Bone-lady say that!"

Buffy nodded. "I know, but that's not really something I can bring up in a conversation now can i? It's not like I can say--wow, that was cool what you did in Sommalia, but hey--I saved the world from evil. To the world I look like Buffy Summers--failure and totally 'UN-Google-worthy'."

Dawn got up from the bed, took her sister by the shoulders and made the older woman look at her. "Buffy Anne Summers, you are a hero—don't you ever let anyone make you feel 'un-Google-worthy'!" she demanded. "If it wasn't for you none of that stuff would matter because evil would have taken over a long time ago, so enough of the pity party. Booth is crazy about you—you're gorgeous, you've traveled the world too and you've saved more people than we can count." She turned Buffy and pointed her at her clothes. "Now I want you to hold you head up, find something that suits your personality and let's go show this Bones lady the incredible woman who's won the heart of a Champion—not once, but twice, okay?!"

A smile tugged Buffy's lips upward. "I'm so glad you're coming to lunch too," she said, hugging her sister. "Thanks Dawnie." She took a deep breath and with new confidence she found a beautiful Gucci white pantsuit that fit her petite body perfectly. A lacy teal camisole underneath complimented her tan and brought out her eyes. Dawn handed her a pair of white/gold sling-back Manolo Blahnik sandals to complete the outfit.

Dawn nodded her approval of the outfit. "Oh now you need the Valentino tote…" She dug through Buffy's things. "Where is it?" A second later she made an *a-ha* sound and came out with the teal green purse. "Perfect," she said laying the tote next to the outfit laid out at the foot of the bed. "Now that says class and style." Dawn grinned. "And it should considering you spend every penny you make on clothes, purses and shoes!"

The ex-Slayer stuck her tongue out at her sister teasingly. "And now you see why I do," she shot back as she grabbed her robe and headed for the shower.

**An hour and a half later:**

Buffy glanced at her sister in the mirror as she fastened a pair of slender gold hoops to her ears. Dawn was brushing out her waist length hair and Buffy admired it. "I love the gold highlights you added—totally brings out your eyes."

Dawn grinned. "Well they do say blondes have more fun…"

Buffy laughed. "Hmm, I guess I missed that memo," she teased, adding a peach gloss to her lips. "There," she said, flashing a brilliant smile. "How do I look?"

"Like you could anything less than beautiful, Buffy. He's going to lose his mind when he sees you," Dawn replied, swiping her own lips with gloss before fluffing out her hair and spritzing it.

"That's the point—well maybe not the actually losing his mind part, but…" her words trailed off. "You get what I mean."

Dawn giggled. "No more chance of that-remember? Angelus is long gone. Now it's just Booth…or Angel—are they the same person now or different? I'm still not sure how the whole thing works."

Buffy sighed. "When Angel was…" She swallowed, "dusted. The Powers stepped in and saved his soul. Then they altered time and reality to create Seeley Booth complete with a background, family and bizarrely—cruelly if you ask me—guilt issues too."

"So what happened to Angelus?"

Buffy scowled. "Hopefully he went to hell where he belongs," she snapped.

Dawn nodded and wisely dropped that touchy subject. "Okay, are we ready?"

Buffy pushed aside her lingering fear and loathing for the demon that had tormented her and Angel. Angelus was gone—she'd never have to deal with his evilness again. She plastered a bright smile on her face. "Ready," she said and while she was still nervous about meeting Seeley's partner, she felt far more secure than she had earlier.

**The Church of the Holy Saints:**

Father Donlan stood outside the door for several minutes before going inside. He was ever wary of the mood this demon would be in whenever he dealt with him. For the first two years it was easy—toss some blood in his pen and the creature would gobble it up. He was mindless. He'd been in Hell when the Senior Partners had dragged him back, but the last year or so…Angelus the intelligent demon had returned. Ironically it was the demon who wasn't insane that was far more dangerous than the mindless beast he had been when Father Donlan had fist been assigned the task of being his liaison to the outside world.

He took a deep breath and entered the darkened chamber. "Angelus…" he called out. "I have your blood."

Angelus was reclining on his bed. It was a small twin, nothing like the luxury he was accustomed to. He frowned and set aside the reports on 'Soul-Boy's' new identity and got to his feet. "Where?" he asked, leveling his glowing red eyes on the terrified priest. "I don't see another human here besides you. Are you offering me your blood, then?" he asked, pure evil dripping from every word. The priest held up a few bags and Angelus snarled angrily. "What the fuck is that? Bagged blood! I want hot human blood, Father." He spoke the priest's title like a curse.

"I-I know," Father Donlan said, setting the blood down on the table, yet keeping a wary eye on the mercurial tempered demon he'd been serving for the last four years. "B-but I can't keep bringing you people to kill, Angelus—the parish is being investigated."

Angelus' bloody amber eyes narrowed. "I know—by my own fucking body. Agent Seeley Booth—F.B.I. Agent extraordinaire!" He motioned to the files lying on his bed. "I read the reports—seems 'Soul-Boy' is still a fucking hero!" He shook his head and made a *tsking* sound. "Those powers—you gotta admit they have a sense of humor," he wise-cracked before his scaled featured hardened.

The priest noticed the facial shift and backed away. Angelus smirked. "Aah, you're getting brighter I see..." he taunted. Angelus took a menacing step closer. "You should be afraid, Donlan. I want my body back and if I don't get it soon—I might become peckish. How close are the Svera Priests to perfecting the resurrection spell?"

Father Donlan shrugged. "A few days—maybe less."

"Well hurry it up. I can't exist like this. I can't even hunt on my own," he snapped. "Look at me? I'm a fucking monster—my skin is scaly and…" He made a face as he held his hands out, "green. I have green scaly skin and horns—what the fuck! People would run screaming as soon as they see me," he growled. Angelus grabbed a bag of blood. "I'm a vain son of a bitch, Father," he growled. "After two hundred and fifty years in a body that got me as many victims—no—more victims than I wanted—I find a human visage pleasing." His voice hardened again. "So do your job and get my body back for me." He held up the bag of blood. "And get me something other than this," he gritted out, shaking the bag at the cowering old man. The priest looked like he was about to grow some balls and argue, but Angelus stopped his protests with a deep growl. "You sold your soul to the Senior Partners a long time ago, Donlan. Don't try and redeem it now," he taunted. "It'll only earn you a slow and painful death--trust me."

Angelus punctured the bags of blood with his fangs and drank it down greedily. When he was done, he tossed it aside, wiped his mouth and went for the next one. "Now get your ass in gear because you _will_ do this for me," he said. "It's taken me almost four years to regain my memories since the Partners pulled me out of whatever hell I was in, but now I'm back and I want my body along with it, so get it the fuck done," the demon snarled, before drinking down the next bag hungrily.

Father Donlan went to leave, but Angelus stopped him. "Oh and I have a special request for dinner tonight—something young and blond, preferably with big green eyes," he purred. "With my mind back—I have other needs besides blood that have to be satisfied." The priest gaped, but slowly his shoulders slumped and he nodded. Angelus' cruel smirk was made even more hideous by his true demonic visage. "And Donlan—make sure she's pretty. I can't fuck just anything, you know?" he taunted, knowing the old Priest had no choice but to serve him—it was in his contract.

****The Jeffersonian:**

Dr. Camille Saroyan and Dr. Jack Hodgins were examining a water main pipe as Booth and Brennan entered the Lab. Cam glanced up at Hodgins. "So… a shovel hit the water main?

Jack nodded. "The same shovel that was found a few feet from where the water main burst, buried in a colony of worms." He pointed to the pipe. "See here and here…the metal shavings match." He flashed a huge smile. "Someone was digging in that cemetery. Maybe they were resurrecting the dead…"

Camille rolled her eyes. "Oh goody, and they say Christmas only comes once a year.

The partners were definitely arguing, as they made their way over to the restricted platform. Their voices were raised and the level of aggravation there caused both Cam and Hodgins to cease their conversation as they turned to stare at them.

Booth frowned at Bones as he swiped her card and proceeded her onto the examination deck. "You know, it doesn't help our case when you to do stuff like that, Bones," he griped. "We want their help—we're not there to insult them!"

Brennan shrugged off his concerns. "Father Matt wasn't threatened, you were. I don't see the logic in this argument."

"We're definitely not working well together," Booth growled, throwing his hands in the air.

Cam raised a brow. "Um—I'm going to go out on a limb here and ask…is there a problem?"

Tempe turned to her. "Yes, I'[m finding Booth to be bossy and judgmental on this case. He expects me to cave to his beliefs even when I think their vague, superstitious, and based on a ridiculous belief in the supernatural."

Booth shot Bones a glare before turning to Cam. "And I've been trying to tell _her_ problems between people is never just one person's fault, but she's stubborn and refuses to see anything unless it's right in front of her face," he snapped, putting his hands on his hips.

Brennan raised a brow and shot back. "Some people can create quite a bit of chaos on their own." she stated.

"What?" Booth snapped, then before he thought about it he added, "Name one."

A smile tugged Brennan's lips upward as she replied. "What about Hitler? He did pretty well on his own.

Booth huffed out a frustrated breath. "Did you hear that?" he said to Camille. "I'm talking to her about God and she tosses in Hitler!!" He began to pace. "How can I work with her on a case about faith and beliefs when she doesn't have any?"

Cam looked stumped, but Angela; who'd been entering the lab at the time, swiped her card and spoke up as she came up on the platform. "Whoa, okay, back to your corners, guys—just because you two don't believe in the same things isn't necessarily a bad thing." She turned to Brennan. "_You_ definitely need to broaden your horizons and sometimes just believe even when there isn't a bone or a body in front of you as proof." Booth smirked, but Angela turned to him too and let him have it. "And _you_ have to understand she doesn't see the world like you do and accept that. Forcing someone to have faith in something they don't believe in, isn't the same thing as having faith at all, now is it?"

Booth and Brennan looked away from her uncomfortably. They looked at each other.

"I'm sorry, Bones," he said. "But I do think it'll help if you come see Dr. Wyatt with me. I think it can improve our communication skills," he said.

Brennan shook her head. "No. Therapy is a vague and inexact process. It has no basis in facts. The man shouldn't even be called a doctor."

Booth shot a look at Angela, as if saying 'see' before turning back to Brennan. "Well, he helped me. I mean, are you so threatened that you can't even do a favor for someone you 'call' a friend?"

Brennan hesitated and Angela nudged her with a sharp elbow. Tempe shot her an irritated frown before turning back to Booth with a sigh. "Fine," she agreed. "I'll go, but I want you to know, I will speak my mind, Booth. I will speak my mind," she said to him.

A broad grin spread across his face and he nodded. "That's okay," he said.

Hodgins grinned at the group in general before he turned to Angela with a huge smile. "See why I love her?" he crowed. "Isn't she fantastic?"

Angela shrugged off his declaration until she noticed his attention was snagged by Buffy and Dawn coming into the lab. His jaw had dropped as he stared at them. Angela gave him a sharp elbow too. "Hey, remember you're taken," she said with a wicked little grin.

Hodgins winked. "But Zack isn't…now where is my little single friend—there is a definite 'hottie' alert on deck," he said.

Booth heard Hodgins' statement and turned, spotted Buffy and his head whipped back to scowl at Jack. "Hey, back off Sparky," he growled. "One of those hotties is—" All eyes turned to him at the possessive sound in his voice and he faltered. He cleared his throat and tried to appear casual. "Well, she's…Buffy," he finished lamely.

"And that's supposed to mean…what?" Cam teased.

Booth's brows snapped down. "Camille," he warned.

"Seeley," she said back. "Are you dating her?"

He noticed Angela's raised brow and shook his head at her. "Don't even think of grilling her like you did Tessa," he said.

Before Angela could respond Hodgins interrupted, "What about the other one? Is she single?" Booth frowned as did Angela, and Jack back-pedaled quickly. "Hey, I'm thinking Zack here…" he said holding up his hands.

"Okay—you," he said glaring at Hodgins, "back off." He rolled his eyes and made a shooing motion with his hands. "And why are you still here—don't you have work to do?" he snapped, before he made his way over to Buffy.

Angela nudged Jack. "A little more subtlety and a lot less 'King of the Lab', next time, okay?"

Brennan observed the blond Slayer with an un-biased eye. "She's very beautiful."

Angela nodded. "And another blond…" The artist glanced at Cam. "Were you like the _only_ one he ever dated that _wasn't _blond?"

Cam frowned and looked away uncomfortably. "_Okay_, back to work." She glanced at Hodgins, ignoring Angela and Brennan's curious looks. "So…what were you saying about resurrecting the dead?"

****xx****

In the Legal Medico-Lab lobby, Buffy smiled as he separated himself from the group on the platform and headed her way. Thank God, because she really wasn't looking forward to breaking up what looked like a convention of 'braniacs'.

"Hey," he whispered, when he got to her. He hugged her and brushed a fleeting kiss along her cheek. "You look amazing," he breathed, stepping back to get a good look at her. His eyes roamed her hungrily, taking in the sexy pantsuit and heels. "Wow!" he said again, licking his lips.

Dawn giggled and gave Buffy an 'I told you so' look.

Buffy's smile was radiant. "You look pretty nummy yourself—love the tie," she said, pulling out and playing with his funky, but discreetly hidden, 'cartoon character' tie.

He laughed huskily as he tucked it back in his jacket. "Hey no one's supposed to see Bugs…"

Buffy noticed everyone staring. "Did I grow a tail and horns since walking in here?" she asked, self consciously tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.

Booth glanced over his shoulder, scowled at the squints until they looked away and turned back to Buffy. "No, they're just nosy—how about we just leave…" he said grabbing her arm and intending to just go.

Brennan stopped him. "Booth, aren't you going to introduce me?" she called out coming down from the platform.

He exhaled loudly, and looked as if he was going to say no, but Buffy's small pout made him freeze in his tracks. Tempe made her way over to them. She took her gloves off with a snap and Booth turned Buffy to Bones with his 'charm-smile' plastered on brightly. "Dr. Temperance Brennan—this is Buffy Summers—Buffy—this is Bones." He nodded his head as if satisfied. "Good now that we're all introduced..." He nodded to Bren and turned to leave. "We're going to lunch—see ya in a bit, Bones."

Dawn stopped his hasty retreat. "Hello—not just furniture here."

Booth looked uncomfortable and Buffy giggled. She glanced at Brennan and tried to break the ice. "Is he always this nervous around a group of women?" Buffy teased.

Brennan took the question seriously. "No, I would say that as an 'Alpha-Male' Booth is very comfortable with the female attention he receives," she stated in her usual direct manner.

Buffy gave Booth a confused look, before turning back to Brennan. "Um—yeah…well, I was kidding."

"Don't mind Bones she takes everything too literally," he said.

"I don't understand," Bones said, glancing at Booth for guidance. "She asked a question and I answered it. Why is that too literal?"

Buffy tilted her head and suddenly didn't feel insecure at all anymore as she realized she was the far more adept in a social setting. "I've heard a lot about you, and I also saw that you write books too," Buffy said, totally at ease now. "Murder mysteries…my favorite," she said, flashing a warm smile. "So…are those based on your cases here that you do with Booth?" she asked, trying not to sound too nosy as she investigated the relationship between Booth and 'the Bone-lady' because in the books Brennan's character messed around with her partner.

"The guy in the books isn't me," Booth whispered in her ear, amused at her obvious snooping tactics.

Brennan heard Booth's comment and added, "No, it's not him, even though I believe Booth to possess the symmetrical features of a good breeder, we've never dated."

Buffy's eyes widened and shot to Booth. "Is she serious?"

Booth sighed. "Yeah, as weird as it sounds—she is."

Zack Addy rushed into the lab, thankfully interrupting the now awkward conversation. "Dr. Brennan we may have a problem," he stated. "According to the toxicology reports we've all been exposed to coccidiodomycosis, a fungal infection from the graveyard dirt we've been breathing."

"What?" Booth growled.

Zack glanced at the Agent who was lie an idol to him. "I'm sorry Agent Booth, but if you've been anywhere near this dirt, you could be infected too. The symptoms are nausea, weakness, fever..."

Everyone glanced around at each other as if wondering who was a carrier.

Booth shrugged. "But I feel fine."

Hodgins nodded. "Yep, me too."

Angela was also nodding and Brennan frowned at him. "As do I. Zack are you sure?"

The lab assistant nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, the reports are exact. Dr. Brennan, its present in the dirt. We all need to get shots. The other symptoms include a loss of appetite and a definite drop in libido…"

Dawn suddenly giggled, drawing everyone's attention to her. She shrugged. "What? If loss of libido is a symptom of this casa-doodily-isis—whatever—Booth _**so**_ doesn't have it." She paused, and then slowly--almost evily grinned and winked at her sister and Seeley. "Trust me--those two have been at it like bunnies ever since they met," she quipped to the group, much to her sister's and Booth's utter mortification.

****Across town at a small Tavern:**

The Council goons were sitting in a large booth drinking Guinness on tap, laughing and telling tales about their last trip to the U.S. The waitress dropped of their latest round and the men tipped her and ogled her as she sauntered away.

The leader of the pack, Julius Weatherby gave the waitress one last glance before he leaned back in his seat and winked at his compatriot. "So...D.C…" He glanced at another of the 'Council's death squad'. "Hey Jerrard, would you have predicted Angelus would end up here?" He pulled out a cigarette, glanced at the no-smoking sign and lit it anyway.

Jerrard shrugged. "Here's as good a place as any to take the prick out, I say," he said and took a long drought of his beer.

Just then a man entered the pub and Council Agent Jerrard nudged Council Team Leader Weatherby. "He's here," he said.

One of the other council members frowned, not seeing the exchange. "Can ya believe they made us fly coach! All those alchemists on the board of directors and they still stuck us in a cheap motel. Miserly bastards," he grumbled.

"A frugal lot to be sure, but not stupid," Weatherby responded as he took a long drag of his smoke. He noticed a woman glaring at him and pointing to the 'NO Smoking' sign. He rolled his eyes and finally put the smoke out. "There," he snapped. "Happy now ya bloated twit?" he said with a smirk.

Jerrard leaned forward. "How much are we going to tell him?" he asked.

Weatherby watched as the man came closer. "Only as much as necessary," he said as the man came to a stop beside their table. The older Agent glanced up and smiled. "Good ta see you, mate. Have a seat." He called the waitress over and ordered the man a Guinness. After the drinks were served he winkled at the nervous man sitting across from him. "I was just saying what a frugal bunch of wankers the Council accountants are, but I think you'll agree they pay well when the time is right…" he said with a smarmy smile and pushed an envelope across the table at the man sitting there.

F.B.I. Agent Eugene Sullivan frowned as he looked down at the bribe. "I didn't sign on for this," he said. "My father may have believed in all this 'hokey-demon-stuff', but I told you—I've never seen Booth exhibit anything like the symptoms you keep describing. He's not a vampire!"

Weatherby opened a file and tossed out a picture of Buffy. "What about this girl—ever seen her?"

Sully shook his head. The Council Agents all looked from one another then back to Sullivan. "Well, she's here," Weatherby said. "That's the Slayer—she found Booth because he used to be Angelus—got it now?"

Jerrard leaned forward. "We know she's here and we know you have access to her."

Sully slid the picture and the file back across the table. "I've never seen this woman before. How do I have access to her?"

"She's dating Angelus," one of the Agents growled.

Sully's eyes widened. "I've never seen him with this girl…" He eyed the British Council goons. "Are you sure? I mean—I could lose my job as it is if the Agency ever found out about the information I've already supplied you with."

Jerrard scoffed and leaned back in his seat. "Loyalty to a vampire now, is it?"

Sully frowned. "That's just it. Booth isn't a vampire."

Weatherby soothed the two men. "Look, it's alright. That's not why we're here. A Slayer that's gone bad is far more dangerous than any single vampire. Surely you understand that."

Sully remembered how his father died. "Yeah, I do—all too well."

Weatherby leaned forward and pushed the envelope at Sullivan again. "Then you'll help us?"

Sully hedged a minute more. "Why come to me? You know where she is, why not take her yourselves?"

Jerrard made a face. "She's betrayed her calling, but she has the power and the willingness to use that power for evil. She must be stopped."

Sully reluctantly picked up the envelope, but instead of pocketing it, he handed it back to Weatherby. "If this girl is as bad as you say—I don't want money to help. I'll do it for my father," he said. He stood up. "Don't call me again—I'll contact you," he said and left the pub without a backward glance.

Jerrard picked up his beer and looked sideways at Weatherby. "Think he'll follow through?"

The older Agent shrugged. "Nah, but he'll lead us right to the Slayer and Angelus, and really…that's all we wanted, right?"

****Back at the Jeffersonian:**

Angela came up behind Hodgins. "So…I wonder how many nights a week the sexy blond is doing the sleepover?"

Hodgins grinned and shook his head. "I knew that would pique your interest."

"Well, despite being hottness personified, Booth is like the 'Lone Ranger' when it comes to women most of the time—the last woman I saw him with was the blond attorney—or Cam," she said. "And he totally didn't act like he did today—did you hear the growl? Very sexy," she said with a grin.

Hodgins frowned. "Should I be jealous?"

Angela flipped her hair over her shoulder. "Not if you meet me in the Egyptian room in say—fifteen minutes," she taunted and sauntered off the deck, giggling when Hodgins made a similar growl behind her.

****x****

**Later:**

Buffy, Booth and Dawn were entering the Legal Medico Lab. Lunch had been fun for everyone but Dawn. The two lovers had spent most of the time cuddling and kissing. Giggling and whispering to each other in voices that were so baby sweet, Dawn wanted to puke. She glared at the two of them over her shoulder. "God will you two just get a room already?" she mumbled as they made their way across the lobby to the examination deck.

Zack glanced up and noticed them, but his eyes widened as he gazed at the gorgeous brunette standing next to Booth. "I—oh my," he whispered softly.

Hodgins noticed where Zack's eyes had strayed and grinned. "I told you, dude. She's like uber-hot. Don't even glance at the blonde or Booth will probably shoot you, but the sister is fine, right?" Hodgins winked. "I think this set up makes me 'King of the lab'!"

Zack was already nodding. "You can be 'King of the Planet' for all I care as long as you can introduce me to her," he murmured staring at Dawn.

Cam swiped her card before she strode onto the examination deck. "So…what do we have?"

Zack reluctantly turned away from Dawn and went back to business. "Dr. Saroyan, I've indentified several abnormal pre-mortem injuries on all the bodies recovered from the cemetery. All of them seem to have the same puncture wounds to the hyoid bone…" He pointed at a few of the bones with his pen. "Here and here and…" He moved to another table, "and here and here…"

Cam nodded. "Okay, I get the picture. Do we have any idea what caused these injuries?"

Hodgins grinned. "I'm telling you…it's vampires, man. Those wounds are perfect fang marks."

Across the room, Buffy's whole body tensed. "Did he just say…vampires?"

Booth rolled his eyes. "Yeah, we found some strange marks on the necks of some of the bodies—you gotta understand Hodgins…" he said and went on to explain how the man believed in every single conspiracy theory known to man.

Buffy didn't care. She happened to know vampires were real. Her and Dawn exchanged looks. "Hey, mind if we hang out—watch you guys work?" she said to Booth, giving him _**her **_'charm-smile'.

Booth blinked at the radiance of her grin. "Sure, why not," he said and led the sisters over to the deck. He swiped his card and led Buffy and Dawn up to the table where Cam, Hodgins and Zack were.

"So…what have we got?" Booth asked.

Cam sighed. "Well according to Hodgins a series of vampire attacks—me I'm thinking ice pick or something similar." She leaned over to whisper in Booths' ear. "We may have stumbled onto the burial ground of a very proficient serial killer, Booth."

That got his attention and he jerked his head back in surprise. "What? You're kidding, right?" Cam just frowned and Booth swallowed. "Shit," he said and got his phone out to call his boss. He glanced at Buffy. "Baby, I'm sorry, but I gotta call Cullen…" He looked at Jack. "But Hodgins here will show you around, right?"

Jack grinned. "With pleasure."

Booth scowled. "Just the basic tour there pal—take her to the Egyptian room and I will pull out my gun and shoot you, but first I'll—well lets just say you'll be glad when I shoot you," he growled.

Buffy glanced at Booth, realized he was jealous and blew him a kiss. Booth's whole face lightened, much to the shock of the squints.

"Wow—I don't think I've ever seen him smile like that," Zack mused, staring at the handsome, but usually brusque Agent.

Dawn nudged him. "Oh that." She snorted. "Don't be surprised. He'll do that al lot when she's around, might as well get used to it. He could be like totally all *grrrr* one minute…then Buffy walks in the room and it's like presto-chango…he's just a big pussycat." Dawn giggled. "It's amazing really," she said, smiling at the cute lab assistant.

Zack was entranced by her smile and could only nod. "I-I think I'll take your word for it," he whispered before turning away nervously and focusing on the body again.

Dawn watched him closely. "Hey wanna explain to me what you're doing? I took basic biology, so I'm not a stranger to the human body, but do you really think this was a vampire attack," she asked, sliding closer to the table to get a look for herself before she alerted Giles that their was vampires in DC.

Buffy turned to Hodgins. "Hey for those of us who skipped health class to hang out at the 'Java-Hut'…wanna explain to me why you think this might be a vampire?" she asked, playing the ditz for the moment.

Hodgins grinned. "Are you a believer?"

Buffy batted her lashes. "Oh, definitely," she said with a fake grin.

Hodgins then pointed out the marks on the neck. Buffy got very serious as she studied them. "Damn," she whispered as she recognized the marks. It was a vampire—no doubt about it. "How old did you say these bones are?"

"Well most of the regular burial plots go as far back as a hundred years ago, but towards the back of the cemetery, we found a mass grave that appears to be within the last two or three years, and all of them have these marks."

Buffy sighed. Great—there was a vampire in DC and obviously a very clever one at that. It was time to get Mr. Pointy out of retirement after all…

_**Okay guys, this was kind of short, but it was very plot orientated. I just kind of wanted to let you all know where I'm going with this fic. Oh and I didn't have a name for the Church, but I thought the name fitted—so don't correct me—I didn't remember the name and I watched the epi over and again and no where did I hear them mention it…**_

_**Oh—and before you flame me about Angelus and now NOT sexy he is in this—remember, he IS NOT in Angel's body in this fic—he is in his TRUE demon form. When you think of him…I'd say…picture the demon in Pylea, cause that is kinda what he looks like. Okay? Okay. **_

_**Now feed the musie so she will feed me because seriously you guys loved that plotty chappie so much—I just had to do another one!! Lol! I was supposed to send out thank yous, but I wrote this instead—hope you're not mad… :) :)**_

_**Xoxo**_

_**Jen**_


	11. Chapter 11

**Still His Girl **

**A fic by: Jen**

**Rating: M**

**Disclaimer: I own none of the characters from either show. I just love to play with them, so don't sue me!**

**Okay, very short A/N guys: I just basically want to say hi to all my buds out there and wish you all a 'Happy New Year'! All of you who R&R and all my faves--you know who you are. I love ya guys! ****Hey—2010 baby!! Here it is!! Yes, let's kick it off right and proper right? Sorry--no smuttiness in this chappie--trying to further a plot, but I'll be updating "BoD" tomorrow boys and girls, so if'n you're lookin for some serious smut—you'll have to tune in to that Bat channel…lol! :) :P**

**Chappie 11**

**The Palomar Hotel:**

After Booth dropped them off, Buffy and Dawn headed for the lobby.

"Okay I know you recognized those marks…" Dawn said anxiously. "What are we going to do?"

An elderly couple passed by them, and Buffy hesitated in answering. Once the couple was out of earshot, she turned to her sister, a worried frown marred her brow and she nodded. "Yeah, I saw. They were definitely vampire," she said quietly, as she pressed the button for the elevator.

"I know," Dawn agreed with a sigh. "So what are we going to do?" she asked again.

"I'm going to go have a look-see at that graveyard tonight," Buffy replied. "Also, I need you to call Giles—see if he has any contacts here in D.C. We need to get the rundown on any recent demon activity."

The elevator doors opened with a soft *ding* and Dawn followed her sister inside. "Or—you could call him yourself…" the younger woman hinted hopefully.

Buffy punched the button to their floor. "Or you could do it and we can drop this conversation. I'm really not up for it right now."

Dawn sighed long and hard. "But Buffy it's been years—you have to talk to him sometime. He's apologized. You know he never meant to hurt Angel—how can you just rub him out of your life like you have?"

Buffy's eyes narrowed angrily. "It's been easy actually and don't look at me like that. I don't have to do anything I don't want to do anymore, Dawn," she snapped. "See that's one of the benefits of _not _talking to Giles anymore—no more judgy little speeches about doing the right thing." Her jaw clenched as she thought of what her ex-watcher had said and done to Angel in that last year when Angel was working at Wolfram&Hart. "And how can you say he didn't mean to hurt him?" she asked hotly. "He lied to him! Told him I didn't trust him anymore, and then to add insult to injury he sent Andrew…" Buffy made a face, "_Andrew_ to L.A. with a bunch of Slayers to speak for me and threaten him—as if I'd ever let that little geek speak for me with Angel!" Buffy's face was red with fury. "And all of this was done behind my back while I was doing Giles' other dirty work—getting the Immortal to fall in love with me, remember?"

Buffy's brows drew down fiercely and she shuddered in disgust as she remembered letting the dry-cold hands of the Immortal touch her. She swallowed her bile and glared at her sister. "You weren't playing the whore while the love of your life needed you, so don't sit there and tell me he didn't mean it I don't care what he meant, the fact is because of Giles—Angel got dusted. He might as well have shoved a stake in his heart the day Angel came to Rome and saw me with the Immortal—something else I didn't find out about until later." Her eyes filled with tears and her voice became husky. "I don't blame Angel for not trusting our side anymore and taking on the Senior Partners by himself and—" She stopped and swallowed back her tears. "And don't give me the whole Giles thought Angel was evil drama—we all know Giles was wrong." she finished softly.

"But you don't know that what happened wasn't meant to be. Who's to say even if he'd called…Buffy, you don't know if you could've saved him," Dawn insisted.

"Maybe-maybe not, but we'll never know will we? Because the one time Angel did call for help—Giles refused." The car came to a stop and Buffy gave Dawn a teary eyed glare when her sister looked as though she was going to try and offer up another point. "Dawn, please—I can't forgive him—not now, maybe not ever," she said softly as the door opened.

Buffy marched out, striding down the hall to the door to their room as if the hounds of hell were after her. Dawn rushed to catch up with her. "But everything worked out for Angel—look at the life he has now," the younger woman continued urgently.

Buffy rounded on dawn as she dug in her purse for the key to their room. "Which has nothing to do with anything!" she snapped as she finally found the little plastic card. "Did Giles give Angel this new life?" she bit out as she slid the card into the lock. The light flickered green and Buffy opened the door. "No, he didn't," she said tossing her purse on the bed. Buffy expelled a long drawn out sigh. "Look, I'm not doing this right now. Let's just drop it—I don't want to talk to him and that's just the way it is," she said adamantly as she shrugged off her jacket and tossed it next to her purse.

Buffy looked on the verge of a meltdown and Dawn finally dropped the subject. "Alright," she said softly. "Buffy, I'm sorry for pushing—it's just—I don't understand, and maybe I never will, but it hurts to see you two…not talking." Dawn spontaneously hugged her. "I'll call him—I'll do whatever I need to do to_ not _see this look in your eyes again."

Buffy hugged her sister back. Tears trailed down her cheeks. "Thanks," she whispered. Buffy wiped at her eyes as she sat on the end of the bed and slipped off her shoes. She sighed softly as she wiggled her toes. Dawn looked guilt-ridden. Buffy didn't want that. "Dawnie, I know you don't get it, and I'm not asking you to understand, but I just can't forgive and forget right now. It's not you or anyone else's thing—it's between me and Giles, so please just leave it alone, okay?"

"Okay," the younger sister said.

Buffy nodded. "Good, now if you need me—I'll be in the bath. I have a headache…" Dawn looked away and Buffy shook her head chidingly. "Hey, don't go all 'guilt-girl' on me—I had a headache as soon as I saw those marks," she said teasingly as she grabbed her robe and headed for the bathroom. The Slayer paused at the door. "I love you, Dawnie. You've been a major help through this whole Angel/Booth thing. I honestly don't know what I would have done without you here," she admitted softly.

Dawn's face brightened. "I love you too, Buffy and I'm so here for you with that. Booth is perfect for you, ya know?"

Buffy's smile broadened as the 'Giles' tension eased between them. "I know. He is, isn't he? But you've really been a big help and I want you to know I appreciate it. I would have been 'Buffy-space-cadet-girl' a couple of times there if it weren't for you."

Dawn grinned."Okay, before we have a total 'Oprah' moment here—you go take a bath—I'll call Giles and we'll figure this out Buffy. I'm here for you."

"Thanks," Buffy said before she shut the door with a soft click.

Dawn grabbed her phone and crawled up on her bed to call Giles. Buffy's adamant refusal to even speak to him was painful, but wisely the younger woman didn't push it any further. Ever since Buffy had discovered what had happened that last year while she was undercover with the Immortal—Giles had become an even touchier subject than Angelus ever had been. Dawn sighed as she punched in the ex-watcher's number—he'd be sad to see it wasn't Buffy calling, but at least he'd know she was okay—no matter what Buffy thought, the man did love the retired Slayer like a daughter.

****XXXX****

**Jeffersonian Medico-Legal lab:**

Angela noticed Hodgins was still working as she swiped her card and stepped onto the examination platform. The brunette artist crossed her arms as she gave her boyfriend a scowl. "It's 7:30, Hodgins, you said you were going to be finished in a minute—that was an hour ago," she reminded him.

Excited he nodded absently. "I know. I'm sorry, but after we discovered the silver particulates in the fracture in one of the skulls, I thought maybe the shovel was used as the murder weapon. If I can narrow down the smelting process of the silver, I might be able to figure out what kind of weapon we're looking for.

Shaking her head at his enthusiasm over his particulates, Angela gave him a sexy smirk. "Mmmm, I love it when you talk about smelting," she teased.

The sensual tone of her voice caused his head to snap up and Jack's face broke into a heated grin. "Really, you do?"

"Yeah, I do," she said huskily and kissed him.

The kiss became heated until they were broken apart by a throat clearing. They glanced up to see their boss standing there. Cam rolled her eyes at the 'less than professional' way they were acting in the lab. "Seriously, do I have to throw cold water on you two?" she asked, but her voice had a teasing edge to it that they recognized. She wasn't really angry.

Angela turned to Cam a slight flush to her face. "Um…we were, uh, just…"

Dr. Saroyan held up a hand and merely smiled. "Oh, I know—don't need the details, just try to keep it off the internet, okay?" she said shaking her head. She paused, before her face became serious. "Honestly you two and your relationship is the least of my worries right now. We have a situation."

That got both Angela's and Jack's attention. "What?" they asked in unison.

Cam made a face. "I really hate to be the bearer of bad news, but our recovery team just unearthed another mass grave—it's larger than the one that Dr. Brennan found the other day and…" She paused and made a face. "The bodies are all fresh."

"What?" Angela gasped. She frowned. "Wow, this is why I call this place my little ray of sunshine—can this get any creepier?"

Cam made a face. "Yeah, it can—the initial reports have some of the bodies in pieces. Literally torn apart… of course I can't confirm that estimation until I examine them personally, but cancel whatever plans you had tonight…it looks like we'll all be working overtime," she said with a sigh.

Angela looked disgusted. "Who would do something like that?" She shook her head as Hodgins and Cam both looked at her with sadness. "I hate this. You guys see the bodies, but I see the people—the faces—sometimes I can't them out of my mind."

Cam made a sound of sympathy. "Angela, I know this is hard for you, but I'm going to need faces for these victims…I need you to pull it together, okay?"

Angela nodded. "I will—giving the victims justice is what keeps me here," she said sadly.

Cam looked Angela directly in the eye. "You give them their dignity back—never forget that—and with this case…" She sighed. "These people need you to tell their story."

Angela nodded again and Hodgins glanced at Cam warily. "Just how many bodies are we talking here?" he asked.

"At least ten—probably more," Cam replied.

Angela and Hodgins both gaped at her with equal expressions of shock. "No way," Jack breathed. He glanced at his lover sideways, noted her sick expression and gave her hand a squeeze. "You're kidding right?"

Camille nodded, looking sick too. "I wish I was, but I'm not. I think we've unearthed a very prolific and busy serial killer here guys."

"Did you call Booth?" Angela asked.

Cam nodded. "I tried, but he didn't answer. I left him a message."

"When are the bodies supposed to be here?" Jack asked.

Cam glanced up just as the glass doors of the lab swished open. "Um—that would be now," she said and Angela and Jack turned and stared in a stunned sense of disbelief as several lab technicians started wheeling in gurney after gurney, all of them loaded down with a thick black body bags.

They kept coming, filling the lobby area. Jack lost count after fifteen. "Okay—whoa," he muttered as the bodies just kept rolling in.

Cam's eyes widened as she realized this was much bigger than they'd anticipated. "Whoa is right." She turned to Angela. "Get Zack—now," she directed. Angela nodded and started to leave, but Cam stopped her. "Oh and call Dr. Brennan too. I don't know if there's any bones as of yet, but since this is definitely related to her case, she'd want to know."

"Right," Angela said sadly as she watched body after body filled the lab. She sighed. "This is gonna be one _very_ long night…"

****XXXX****

**The Church of Holy Saints:**

The first thing Buffy noticed was the cemetery was way busier than she'd expected. She frowned as she noticed the huge flood lights and various people milling about. "What the hell?" she muttered under her breath as she crept along the grounds, trying to find a spot where she could see, but not be seen.

She'd just gotten settled when she heard the snap of a twig behind her. Buffy's head whipped about to face her attacker just as the sound of a gun being cocked sounded in her ear.

"Stay where you are, miss!" a stern voice ordered.

Buffy peered into the darkness just barely making out a man in a suit holding a gun on her. "Oh crap," she said softly.

The man aimed the gun at her head. "Miss if you move even an inch, I will shoot you."

Caught and unable to attack a human, Buffy put her hands in the air. "No, don't shoot," she was quick to say, pouting and angry at herself for being so stupid. She dropped her stake, knowing it would be bypassed as a possible weapon. "I'm unarmed…" she grumbled softly as she backed up towards the man holding a gun on her.

**Half an hour later:**

Buffy tried _again_ to explain to the big guy in the suit holding her captive that she wasn't a grave robber or a mass murderer, but like the first five times, he didn't pay her any mind and finally she screamed at him in exasperation. "Oh my God! What's wrong with you? I wasn't out there digging a grave now was I?" she yelled, totally in a snit at what a block-head the guy was being, but the worst feeling was the realization, like Dorothy from the 'Wizard of Oz', she really wasn't in Kansas anymore—or in Buffy's case, Sunnydale. Here, in Washington D.C. Buffy was getting a huge does of reality, she could get arrested for doing her duty. The thought had never occurred to her. She took a deep breath and tried to reason with him again. "Look, so I was in a graveyard. What's the big? I was—investigating a case, darn it. Can't you just let me go?" she wheedled, tugging at the cuff that held her chained to him.

The guy glanced down at where she pulled at his wrist before he finally met her eyes. He raised a brow at her outburst, and his smirk told her exactly how ridiculous he found her story to be. "No can do," he said. "Agent Booth will be here soon and he asked me to keep you here until he arrived."

Buffy blew out a frustrated breath and felt a little sick at the thought of Seeley catching her here—handcuffed to this goon. "You've got to be kidding me," she muttered, before she switched tactics and smiled at the 'suit' charmingly. "Can't you just pretend you didn't see me? I haven't committed a federal crime, have I? I mean, you could just tell Booth I escaped, right?"

The Agent gave her the same patented F.B.I. blank stare he'd been giving her for the last half hour before he shook his head at her. "Look lady, the only reason you aren't cuffed in the back seat of a cruiser is because Agent Booth vouched for you, so I'd zip it if I were you."

"Whatever," she griped, before yanking on the cuff hard enough to send the goon crashing face first into the ground. Buffy stood back and faked a stunned expression. "Oh my God! Are you okay? What happened?" she asked, barely keeping the smirk off her face and the sarcasm out of her voice.

The man struggled to his knees and glared up at her. "You did that on purpose!"

Her lips twitched, but Buffy played it off beautifully. "Oh come on," she said, rolling her eyes for effect. "You're like what…? Twice my size—really," she chided, "don't blame me because you're clumsy!"

While knocking the arrogant Agent to the ground had amused her and soothed her rumpled dignity a bit, it was finally dawning on her then that she might actually be in serious trouble here and the worst part was she'd never get another chance to scope this place out after this. Damn it! She'd felt something here too. Something that had sent her Slayer senses wonky the minute she'd gotten on the grounds—it was an almost familiar tingle, but she hadn't been able to place it before she'd been captured by the suits and now she was screwed as far as hunting the vampire that had caused it because the big bad F.B.I. would probably post pictures of her face on the fence posts that said 'Do not let this woman on the property', and that was the best case scenario...

She was contemplating making a break for it, when she finally heard_ his_ voice off to the side and her head snapped up. 'Uh-oh,' she thought as she heard Booth identify himself to one of the 'suits' holding her hostage. This was the moment she'd been dreading and the only thing running through her mind was 'time to face the music'. Her heart began to pound and Buffy worried her bottom lip as she caught a glimpse of his face. He looked pissed. There was a definite scowl to those handsome features and her stomach clenched with dread. "God, why do you hate me?" she breathed and wished a giant hole would just open up in the graveyard and swallow her up so she didn't have to face him. She had no idea how she was going to explain being here—the only thing she was sure of was she couldn't tell him the truth.

****XXXX****

Despite the crowd, the lights and all the chaos surrounding the graveyard, he noticed her immediately. She stood out like a ray of sunshine in the darkness, yet Booth was hoping he's hallucinated her being here. What the hell did she think she was doing sneaking onto a federal crime scene? When he'd gotten the call informing him a woman had been apprehended at the grave-yard, he'd been stunned, but when they'd told him her name and asked if he knew her, he'd honestly thought the Agent was either high or crazy. There was no way Buffy would be snooping around his crime scene, yet here she was. His face darkened as he made his way over to her and for once he didn't get all mushy upon seeing her. He was beyond furious and he couldn't help but notice she looked nervous. Good, she should be. The only reason she hadn't been arrested was because they'd found his card on her and had called him instead.

His eyes raked over her and Buffy did her best impression of a shrinking violet. "Un-cuff her," Booth said to the Agent guarding her. He watched as Buffy rubbed her wrist and refused to let himself feel sorry for her. He resisted the urge to kiss her bruise and instead took hold of her upper arm and dragged her away from his fellow Agents.

Buffy jogged to keep up with his long stride as he took her out of earshot of the rest of the suits. "What the hell is wrong with you?" he growled, almost tossing her away from him as he let her go. He put his hands on his hips, and his eyes were a dark fiery brown as he glared down at her. "I can't believe you—what the hell were you thinking?" Before she could answer he went on. "Do you realize you not only put yourself in jeopardy, but my case as well?"

Buffy's knees actually wobbled at the anger on his face. Her eyes dropped. "I—"

He cut her off with a wave of his hand. "No, I don't want to hear it. Any evidence gathered tonight could be challenged because of you." He growled. "Do you have any idea how much trouble you could be in?"

She shook her head and her lower lip trembled. "No, I really didn't…until now," she said quietly. "I'm sorry."

He looked away from that adorable pout refusing to let her seeming vulnerability sway him this time. "What possessed you to come down here?"

Buffy chose her words carefully, keeping as much to the truth as possible. "I was curious," she said. "Plus you remember how I told you I used to do PI work, remember? Well, this case reminded me of something I was working on a few years ago…I wanted to get a closer look and see if they were related."

He rolled his eyes. "So you just decided to snoop around an active F.B.I. crime scene?" He shook his head. "I know you're not stupid—but are you really that naïve?"

She frowned at his tone and her eyes narrowed angrily. "Not usually, but I guess this time I was—go ahead arrest me for being stupid!" she snapped. His eyes bulged, but this time Buffy cut him off. "Look, I'm sorry if you were inconvenienced and had to come down here. It wasn't my idea to call you so if you want to leave—you can. I'll handle my own problems," she said, lifting her chin.

His brows drew down sharply at the snippy comeback. "Hey, where's this coming from? Don't get snarky on me, baby," he told her leaning down to get right in her face. "I wasn't the one who pulled a Mission Impossible tonight—okay? Not to mention the fact that you scared the shit out of me tonight…" He blew out a frustrated breath. "Do you know you could be charged with a Federal Crime here?"

Immediately contrite again, Buffy's demeanor changed as fear made her heart rate pick up. "No, I honestly didn't think about it like that. I'm really sorry, Seeley."

"You should be," he said. "Why didn't you just come to me and ask me to take you here?"

"Would you have?" she asked. The man she remembered liked to handle things on his own.

"If you have information about this case, of course I would have. Jesus Buffy, we're thinking whoever did this is a serial killer—if this looks like a case you worked on I'd more than willing to listen to whatever theories you have."

Buffy studied him. He looked sincere. "Are you sure about that?" she asked. "What if my theories are like…way out there, would you still be interested? Or would I become a nut like that guy Hodgins?"

"I'd listen to any raving lunatic off the street right now if they had information about this case," he said. "We've pulled over thirty five bodies out of here, Buffy. All of them in various states of de-comp. If you have anything that might help me nail this guy, I'm here to listen. It just pisses me off you went behind my back and put yourself and my case in a situation like this."

Stunned Buffy could only nod. "I'm sorry, guess I'm a little too used to being 'Buffy-in-charge'. I didn't mean to cause you any problems, Seeley. I honestly didn't even think of that."

He nodded. "I know—that's the only reason I vouched for you and you're not being charged." He took her arm. "Let's go—you have a lot of explaining to do and I don't want you to do it here," he said and escorted her very firmly out of the graveyard and back towards his SUV.

"My…car," Buffy said, but he just shook his head and told her he'd bring her to get it later. Buffy nodded and let him place her in his car. "So am I your prisoner, then?" she asked.

An actual smile crossed his features for a second before he scowled again. "Cut it out. This isn't funny, baby. You really pissed me off tonight."

"Sorry," she said again and fastened her seat belt—she had a feeling this was going to be a bumpy ride…

****XXXX****

Across the graveyard, peering out the small window of the room that had become a virtual prison, Angelus' red eyes glowed as he watched Buffy and Soul-Boy's new persona talk. The door to his room opened, but the demon didn't turn or react in any way. He simply kept staring at the golden haired Slayer. "Why didn't you tell me _she_ was here?" he growled in a menacingly soft voice.

Stumped, Father Donlan looked out the window. "Who?" he queried nervously.

Angelus grabbed his chin in a green-skinned, scaly hand and pointed his vision towards the petite blond. "See her?" he snarled. The Priest nodded vigorously. "That's the fucking Slayer, you moron!" he gritted out between clenched teeth, shoving Donlan away from him. He turned back to the window, drinking in the sight of Buffy. She was incredible looking. "Little Buff is all grown up," he mused, watching her intently. She'd been here looking for him, he was sure of it. His jaw tightened. "Son-of-a-bitch she could really fuck things up, Father. I need to know where she's staying, how long she's been here—everything." He took a lingering, last look at the one creature who had ever truly kicked his ass in a fight before shutting the curtain and turning away from the window. "Her name is Buffy Summers. She's a Vampire Slayer."

Donlan's mouth opened in shock. "That—that tiny little blond girl…_she's_ the Slayer?"

Angelus' thin green lips quirked and he chuckled. "Yep, but don't let her size fool you," he warned. "She's a pistol and could easily kick your ass from here to hell and back. She's the strongest creature I've ever faced…" He scowled as he glanced down at his clawed hands. "Fuck—I can't even see her, not like this." He turned his blood red eyes on the priest. "I need my body back Donlan. The only way to defeat Buff is to have her love you—or to love her—looking like this, I can't do either."

He lifted the curtain and peeked out the window again just as Booth drew Buffy into his arms. "Oh yeah, she's still infatuated with the body…like a moth to a flame," he murmured, his lip curling up into a grotesque caricature of his infamous smirk. The couple hugged briefly and then Booth took hold of Buffy's elbow and escorted her away. Angelus rolled his eyes. "Always the fucking knight in shining armor, aren't you?" He turned away in disgust. "Fuck! Thank God I don't have to suffer through those retarded fantasies anymore!" He made a *tsk-ing* sound. "Gotta hand it to Buff—at least she's consistent." He glanced at Donlan. "I'm hungry again—I don't care what you bring me, but if it's in a bag—I'll be drinking from you, got it?" He strode across the room, waved a hand at the dead blond girl lying on his bed and made a motion for Donlan. "Get rid of that," he ordered. "I can't sleep with it in bed," he said, obviously obtuse to the irony that he put her in that state.

Angelus watched as Donlan gave a heaving sigh and made his way over to the bed to remove his latest victim. He knew he was making the old priest's life unbearably difficult, but he thrived on it. Twisting a servant of God into a monster was one of the only perks that made this version of his un-life bearable as a matter of fact. He chuckled, "Oh and I'm gonna suggest not dumping them in the graveyard anymore. It's a bit crowded out there…wouldn't you agree?" he said teasingly. "You might want to find a new spot—one that isn't so…holy maybe." He shrugged and added cruelly, "You can't save them old man—you can't even save yourself."

The old man dragged the body out of the demon's bed. He was almost out the door when Angelus stopped him. "And Father—I want Buffy's information by tomorrow, got it? I can't let her come in and ruin everything. Not to mention—I still owe Buff one last dance…I'd like to make sure she gets it this time around…" he said mysteriously.

The debased priest nodded. "Yes, I understand. I'll get you everything you need, Angelus. Don't I always?" he said dejectedly and carried the small blonde girl out of the demon's chamber of horrors. Despite Angelus' warning, the priest hoped he could still find a way to give her a decent burial in consecrated ground without alerting the F.B.I. to a new body. It was the very least he could do—just like all the others, he might not have been able to save their lives, but he wanted to at least save their souls.

Angelus chuckled evilly. Father Donlan had sold his soul to the senior partners—the demon reveled in being his 'cross to bear'. "Yeah, you do old man," he said, his snake like tongue flicked along his lizard like lips wickedly. "Much to your eternal damnation, right?" he taunted, laughing as Donlan's shoulders sagged just a little more after that.

"Just get me the Slayer's intel Father," Angelus reminded before his door shut.

The dark demon sat on his crude twin sized bed and contemplated his next move. He had to get his body back and then he could make Buff beg, plead and finally bleed for what she did to him all those years ago in Sunnydale. He grinned, flashing razor sharp teeth. Things were looking up—oh yeah, with Buff here, things were looking up indeed!

****XX****

Booth glanced at her sideways as he drove her back to her hotel. "So…are you gonna tell me what you were talking about back there, or am I supposed to guess what that cryptic response meant?"

Buffy snorted. "What _you_ don't like cryptic?"

If possible his scowl got darker. "Buffy," he warned. "Normally I might laugh, but seriously—not tonight. You almost went to jail. I need to know what information you might have about the perp who's committing these crimes. I don't want a round-a-bout story either; just tell me the truth, okay?"

Buffy exhaled loudly, but she nodded slowly. "You're not going to like the answer, Seeley," she said.

"Why don't you let me be the judge of that, okay?"

"Fine, then take me to your house because this might turn into a very long night and I don't want to keep Dawn up."

His pulse leaped at the thought of taking her home, but he tamped down his response—this wasn't about getting her naked dammit! "Will you tell me everything?" he asked. She worried her bottom lip, but finally nodded. "Okay," he said and flipped a very illegal U-turn and headed back in the other direction towards his place.

****XXXX****

**Booth's House:**

He fixed them both a cup of coffee before he sat down with her on the couch. "Okay Buffy, I'm listening. Tell me what the hell you were doing tonight sneaking around my crime scene."

Buffy took a sip of the hot brew. It was delicious and she made an appreciative *mmm* sound before setting it down and curling up, tucking her legs under her in an effort to get comfortable and maybe put off what she feared might be her last conversation with Booth.

"You're hedging," he said softly. He reached out and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "You know I'm in love with you, right?"

Buffy's throat closed up and tears welled up. She swallowed hard. "Yes," she whispered.

He nodded. "Then tell me the truth baby, because I know you're hiding something from me and I can't—no, I won't have secrets between us."

"Okay, where to start?" She blew out a soft breath. But when she opened her mouth to continue the lights in the room flickered on and off and Booth was doing that 'freezy-thing' again.

Buffy glanced up as Whistler and Doyle suddenly appeared.

"Tell me I'm not going to have to remind you what a bad idea this is, kid?" Whistler griped.

Doyle shrugged. "Usually I dinna agree with him lass," he said motioning to Whistler. "But in this instance. I gotta agree—tellin' Angel about his past—really not the way ta go, if ya know what I mean?"

Buffy frowned. "I wasn't going to tell him about his past. I was going to tell him vampires are real," she said.

"Not to be repetitive, but isn't that kind of the same thing?"

"No," Buffy said. "Telling him he used to _'be'_ a vampire is _**so**_not the same thing." She ran a hand through her hair. "Look, I know you have a purpose here and I get it—I do, but there's a vampire loose, and not just some fledge. This vamp is clever—obviously older because its hiding the victims in a church cemetery." Whistler and Doyle exchanged glances, but Buffy didn't notice as she went on. "The bodies are piling up and he has to know what he's up against. It's the only way he's going to solve this case and protect himself too."

Buffy paused to take a breath and it was then that she noticed the expressions on her demon guides' faces. "Okay, you both have 'something-face' spill. What do you know?"

Whistler stood up. "We have to go," he said ignoring Buffy's question.

Buffy leapt off the couch. "Oh, no you don't," she snapped grabbing Whistler by the arm in a bruising grip that defied her size. She tossed him against the wall, and then hefted him up in the air by the lapels of his leisure suit. "You know who's doing this don't you?" She shook him forcefully. "Quit with the cryptic Whistler and tell me what you know!" she demanded.

Doyle sighed long and hard before he answered for him. "It may be Angelus," the Irish demon said, stunning Buffy to such a degree that her body literally went boneless and as one, Whistler and her sagged to the floor in puddle of stunned disbelief.

****XXXX** **

_****Okay guys, I know there was still no smut in this, (don't flame me or lynch me) I needed to further the plot here. Trust and believe there is still PLENTY of smut to go in this fic. I mean, because seriously…the ONLY reason I really write fan-fic is to get DB nekkid!! lol! lol! :) :) :)**_

_**Now if you'd just click the button & feed the musie beast—she can feed me & we can all be happy campers, rigty-O? Lovely. **_

_**Now…Happy New Year to all of you, I love ya all bunches and I hope you enjoy the update. :) :)**_

_**Jen**_

_****XXX****_


	12. Chapter 12

**Still His Girl**

**A fic by Jen**

**Rating M**

**Disclaimer: I own none of the characters from either BtVS or Bones.**

**Okay, another semi-short A/N: There are some amazing B/A or Buffy/Booth writers out there…for a list of my favorite authors check out my profile and my fave list. Seriously all these people are tremendously talented and are nice enough to share their gift with us please go and R&R—reviews are like chocolate to a writer.**

**Also thank you to all of you who have taken the time to R&R to this fic. I really appreciate it. The feedback means so much—it inspires me to write, seriously. Without you guys I wouldn't be nearly as possessed! :) :) Thank you again. :)**

**xoxo**

**Jen**

**Chappie 12**

After prying Buffy's hands off his suit coat, Whistler got to his feet and dusted himself off, but Buffy lay where she was—crumpled in a heap, too shocked to do anything more than sit there and stare off into space for several moments as she absorbed the stunning news of Angelus' possible resurrection. How could this be happening? She didn't know, but it seemed too surreal to actually be real.

In a daze, she sat up, and turned to Doyle, a wide-eyed look of horror was plastered across her pretty face. "Wh-what did you say?" she croaked. "My brain must have went a little wonky, because I couldn't possibly have heard you right. Did you say, it's Angelus?"

Whistler glared at Doyle and Buffy got the impression the Irish demon wasn't supposed to tell her that, but she was eternally grateful he did—now the familiarity of the presence she felt at the graveyard made sense even if the how didn't. Her face hardened. "Son of a bitch!" she growled, suddenly all Slayer as everything clicked into place in a heartbeat. Angelus was here because wanted his body back--which meantt he planned on killing Booth.

'Not in this lifetime', she thought getting to her feet. "Tell me," she growled. "And don't you dare leave anything out or I _will _hurt you." She glanced at Booth sitting there frozen on the couch and her heart thudded painfully. She would die to protect him. There was no way in hell Angelus was taking that beautiful soul back over to the dark-side.

****XX****

A little while later Buffy was pacing across the floor. Her eyes went to Booth, still frozen. "That isn't gonna…" she shrugged, "you know…hurt him or anything, is it?"

Doyle shook his head. "Nah—he's in a suspended state of animation. Can't hear a thing we're saying." He winked at Buffy. "Don't worry Slayer—all his parts will still work when he wakes up."

Buffy flushed bright red. "Okay, not what I was implying and how do you…?" Whistler and Doyle looked so guilty she made a face as it dawned on her that they'd been watching after Booth. "And we've reached a whole new level of eeew," she muttered, glaring at the two demons until they finally faced her again. She scrunched up her nose in distaste. "What are you two…a couple of 'peeping demons'?"

"Hey kid, he was our subject. We had to keep an eye on him. It wasn't like we took in the whole show or anything," Whistler grumbled, tugging at his collar and taking his hat off to wipe at his head with his handkerchief.

Buffy held up her hand. "Enough—in this instance ignorance really is bliss—so leave me blissful of the details," she said. She paused to get over the *ick* factor that her and Booth's intimacy had been violated before she got herself back together and began to assimilate what they knew so far. "So the theory is—the senior Partners saved Angelus at the exact moment the PTB's saved Angel—and now he's back and…obviously he's here because he wants his body back too, is that it?" Doyle and Whistler both nodded. "And you failed to mention this earlier because…?"

Whistler shrugged. "We were never sure if it was the truth, but the partners are making a move here and we figure they're ready to bring him back—if it is in fact Angelus. We still don't know that it is," he said.

"No. It's him," Buffy whispered. "I felt him—I _knew_ that evil. Now I know why."

Doyle frowned. "Can ya handle him Buffy?" he asked.

"Handle him?!" Buffy snorted. "Half the time I can barely balance my checkbook," she said wearily. They just stared at her and Buffy frowned. "Last time I had to handle Angelus, he almost killed me, you guys know that right?"

"But we know you can do it," Doyle said. "Angel used to tell me you were the strongest creature he'd ever met."

"Well I'm feeling pretty un-strong. As a matter of fact I'm feeling rather weak and pathetic, but thanks for the pep-talk." The two agents for the powers just stared at her and Buffy sighed. "Okay, sorry for the little meltdown." She took a deep, calming breath. "So what's the what? How do I kill him? He's still a vampire right?"

Doyle sighed. "That's the thing. We don't know. If Angelus is back, then he's in his original demon form—technically the things that kill vampires…might not kill him."

Buffy's eyes narrowed and she expelled a frustrated breath. "Great. I'm still trying to wrap my mind around the 'Angelus being here without Angel' part, but now you're telling me he might be some super vamp!" She frowned at them. "I guess you guys weren't taking notes when I explained the whole 'the last time he was here he almost killed me thing', huh?"

"We have faith in you," Doyle said enthusiastically. "So what's the plan? Maybe you can lure him out," he said getting to his feet, "and just chop his head off!" he said as if swinging a blade. Whistler and Buffy just stared at him and Doyle let his arms drop back to his sides. "Or something like that," he muttered and sat back down.

Buffy ran a hand through her hair and began to pace again. "Okay, before you get your pom-poms out, can you give me a minute or twenty to come up with a plan?" Doyle looked chastised and she knew he wanted nothing more than to help. He was the one who'd finally told her the truth after all.

She placed a hand on his arm. "Doyle, look…I'm sorry. I'm know doing the wacky right now, but it's not everyday my ex-lover's murderous demon comes a calling—and without a body, so I think I'm entitled to a little 'wow-this is beyond bizarre-o-time' okay?"

He nodded and an infectious grin crossed his features. "Aye, I can imagine lass. And if ya don't mind me sayin'—I think you're handlin' it rather well," he said taking her hand and bringing it to his chest. Buffy found herself responding to him despite the seriousness of their situation. With the same dramatic flair Doyle brushed his lips across her knuckles in an overly-grand gesture of chivalry and sighed. "I always knew there was a reason Angel never got over ya." He winked at her. "Now I know why. You're a champion—the real deal, just like he was."

Buffy felt a pleasant flush of pride swell up. "Thanks Doyle," she murmured before she stopped and her face scrunched up into a puzzled look. "So wait—if he's in true demon form…what does Angelus look like? How will I even recognize him?"

Whistler stood up, put his hands on either side of Buffy's temples and gave her a vision of Angelus' true form. She gasped as a hideous green scaly face with a row of horns flashed before her eyes. Buffy grimaced and stumbled back. "Wow, and it gets worse." She shook her head as if to expell the horrible vison as she shuddered. "Oh God, is that what he really looks like?"

"Well it's what the demon looks like," Whistler replied. "Angelus isn't all demon though, Buffy. You got to remember he's got some of Angel and his original human form Liam in him…a demon doesn't inhabit a body for 250 years and not have it rub off on him, but without a body to inhabit, yep, that's pretty much what you'll be facing, but Angelus knows yuo--that's what makes him really dangerous."

Buffy nodded. She wasn't sure what was worse, facing Angelus in Angel's body, or seeing him like that. "Look, I'm going to tell Booth about vampires." Whistler looked like he was about to argue and Buffy vetoed his argument with a vehement shake of her head. "No, I won't just let him walk into this blind. Look, he's got to understand what he's dealing with..._especially_ if we might be dealing with Angelus. There's no way we're going with your non-disclosure plan." She tilted her chin stubbornly and crossed her arms. "No way—no how. Un-unh--isn't happening, so you might as well just forget about it!" she snapped.

Whistler shook his head at her chidingly. "The Powers ain't gonna like it."

"Tough," Buffy responded immediately. "Tell them they can deal."

Doyle couldn't repress his grin and Whistler scowled at him. "Quit encouraging her, Irish!"

The dark haired Irish demon simply smiled, and then daringly winked at Buffy again. "Dinna worry lass, you take care of your man—we'll deal with the almighty Powers that Be." He glanced at Whistler. "Come on, boyo—we got work ta do."

With that they blinked out as quickly as they came. Buffy barely had time to sit back down before Seeley suddenly un-froze. Buffy smiled. "Okay, so where was I again?"

"You were about to start from the beginning," he said.

"Oh…right. The beginning." Yeah if only she could. "Okay, first things first...when you said you had an open mind--just how wide open is wide open? Is it like a doorway or a little crack you can barely squeeze through?" she asked hesitantly.

****XXXX****

**Later: **

Her story was beyond anything he'd ever heard. It was beyond weird. "Are you crazy?" he exclaimed after she'd finished. He shot her a look of disbelief and got up off the couch. He paced, shooting her several strange looks before he stopped and just stared at her with a frown marring his handsome features. Damned he'd met the perfect woman and now it turned out she was looney tunes! He bit back his disappointment as he towered over her and planted his hands on his hips. "What the hell are you trying to pull here, Buffy? Are you somehow involved with this case—besides your little night-stalker adventure tonight?"

She frowned. "Um…I'm not trying to…pull anything, and I'm not some night-stalker…" she defended, desperately trying to make him believe. "I'm trying to explain to you what you're dealing with and I know I sound…" She shrugged, "well crazy is putting it mildly, but I'm not. Vampires are real. I've fought them for years."

"And you're the," he air quoted, "_'Slayer'_ of said vampires, is that about right?"

"Yes," Buffy answered. "Remember Spike?"

Booth snorted. "As if I could forget!"

"He called me the Slayer—Remember?"

"Yeah, and I also remember you having a convenient excuse for that." He got a decidedly pugnacious tilt to his chin as he drilled her to the floor with his eyes. "So…did you lie to me then or are you lying to me now?" he asked quietly.

Buffy swallowed hard as she realized her half truths were coming home to officially bite her in the ass. "I didn't exactly lie, I just kind of twisted the truth so as to not freak you out and have you do a major wig on me." He made a rude scoffing sound and she looked down at her feet. "Like you're doing now," she muttered softly.

"So let me get this straight, you kill vampires, right?" Buffy gave a tiny nod. "How?"

"With a stake," she replied with a puzzled frown.

He shook his head, snorting with laughter as his eyes raked her up and down. "You're what—about a buck-five soaking wet?" His expression clearly said he didn't see her as a predator. "Yet, you want me to believe you can kill super-human creatures of the night with nothing but a piece of wood?"

Buffy sighed in frustration. "Yes," she answered.

"Do you even know how crazy you sound?" He studied her for a second before he gave a dramatic eye roll and his shoulders slouched. He looked crestfallen. "I knew you were too good to be true," he muttered, running a hand down his face.

Her heart ached at the sad look on his face, but she couldn't just let him brush her off. His utter refusal to even consider she was telling the truth, spurred her into action and Buffy tried again to convince him she was telling him the truth. She grabbed hold of his arm, this time with her Slayer strength. He gasped and yanked his arm back. She bit back her smile. "I know this is way beyond the normal 'skeletons in the closet' stuff, but I can prove it if you want," she insisted.

His brow shot up as he rubbed the spot on his bicep where she'd grabbed him with a grip that was a hell of a lot stronger than he'd expected. "Really?" he asked, still skeptical. "And how's that?"

Buffy stood before him and let her arms hang loosely by her sides. "Hit me," she said.

His eye-brows skyrocketed at that statement. He shook his head at her as he took a step back and held his hands out as his warding her off. "No," he said, flatly denying her request.

Buffy followed after him. "You can't hurt me, trust me…go ahead…take your best shot," she taunted.

"I'm not going to—" Buffy somersaulted over his head and landed agilely on her feet behind him. Booth jumped when she tapped him on the shoulder. With an expression of shock, he spun around quickly to face her.

"Hi," she said with a grin.

"What the…?" His jaw hung as he gaped at her. "How the hell did you do—?"

With preternatural speed Buffy shot across the room. Booth spun around in a circle looking for her. "Over here," Buffy called out near the kitchen. She gave him a jaunty wave and raced across the room to stand in front of him again.

He jumped back, nearly tripping over his own feet in his haste. He was completely stunned that she'd appeared before him in less than a blink of an eye. His brows drew down into a scowl and he took a wary step back from her. "Okay—that's just…creepy. How the hell did you do that?"

Buffy expelled a long breath. "I told you—I'm the Slayer. I need super speed and strength to kill vampires."

"This is nuts," Booth muttered, but the way she moved couldn't be explained logically. He almost laughed. Now he sounded like Bones. Who'd have thought he'd find himself in a relationship where he was the logical one!

Buffy shot into the kitchen again and came out with a metal pot. "Okay, but promise me you'll at least listen to me if I can prove it to you?"

His eyes went from her earnest expression to the steel pot she was holding. He nodded curtly as his heart began to race. His gut was screaming and Booth knew he was about to see something that would change him. Sure enough what she did next caused his jaw to drop as she crushed the pot in her bare hands.

Buffy handed him the deformed piece of metal. "See—Slayer strength," she explained with a shrug, taking a step towards him. He jumped back, staring at her like she was some sort of monster. She paused and her lip trembled. "Please—don't tell me you're afraid of me?"

The pout did him in. He took a deep breath and his shoulders straightened. "Not—afraid, no," he denied. "Freaked out maybe…and…" he paused, "strangely turned on too," he admitted, making a face, "but not scared."

She relaxed slightly at that admission. "I'm sorry. I should have told you, but there's just not an easy way to break this conversation into a first date—or even a fiftieth if you know what I mean? I know it seems insane, but it's real—even if you don't believe me—believe your instincts, Seeley. You know I'm telling the truth," she whispered urgently.

Booth stared at her long and hard. He couldn't believe this tiny woman was able to do that, but he'd seen it with his own eyes. "Yeah, I get it," he sighed. How many times had he told Bones that just because you couldn't see something, it didn't make it any less real? He took his own advice. "Okay, so I'm ready to listen now…" he said softly and flopped back down on the couch. "But I think I need a beer," he said wearily. He waved a hand at the kitchen, "Maybe you could like super-speed in there and get me one, huh?"

Buffy giggled. At least he wasn't calling the cops and having her carted off to the nearest mental institution, that was a good sign. "How about I just walk?"

He nodded absently as his mind absorbed what she was telling him. "Whatever," he murmured, obviously still stunned and showing it as he sat, hunched on the couch, legs sprawled, and just kind of staring off into space.

****XXXX****

**England:**

Willow took the amulet from Giles. The Watcher started to offer reassuring comments, but Willow just smiled. "I got it, Giles. Not a problem."

"How can you say that? According to my sources, Angelus may be returning to corporeal form and looking to take his body back. I think that constitutes as a problem, Willow, no matter your witchcraft!"

Willow looked properly chastised. "I didn't mean it like that—of course Angelus coming back is a problem, but Angel surviving makes it worth it. For Buffy," she added.

He nodded. "Yes, well there is that…"

"Giles, if he's alive, maybe she'll finally forgive you."

He looked away. "I'm not sure I deserve it. I should have told her, Willow. I made a decision and it cost Angel his life and I lost Buffy…" He sighed. "I should have told her."

Willow nodded in agreement. "Yeah, you should have, but you can't change what's already happened. That's like trying to put the plug back in the tub once the waters all gone. Not so much with the reasoning," she said softly. "The only thing we can do is make sure we're there for her this time. Okay?"

He nodded. "Make sure you tell Buffy that the only way for Angel to not receive Angelus' entity is for him to wear this amulet at all times. It's absolutely imperative."

She grinned. "And we're back to the 'I got it, Giles—not a problem' part of this conversation," she teased with a smile.

He *harrumphed* "Yes, well…good." Willow prepared to leave through teleportation but Giles' hand stopped her. "Tell her—tell her I miss her, will you?' he said softly.

Willow tucked the amulet in her pocket, picked up her suitcase and nodded. "I will, Giles. I promise," she said and with a shimmer and a blink, she was gone.

Giles stared at where the red-headed witch had been. She certainly was powerful now, he was glad they'd been able to save her. It certainly helped to have someone who could travel half-way across the world in a blink of an eye.

He headed into his office to call Dawn and let her know what he'd learned since they'd last talked.

****XXXX****

**Booth's house. **

He took another swig off his beer and glanced at her sideways, his expression was one of numbed shock. "How am I supposed to officially solve this case?" he muttered. "It's not like I can tell my superiors that Dracula is our perp!"

Buffy shook her head and grinned. "Nooo…Drac is more like a 1920's Bella Lagosi kind of guy. He's not really the rip em up, torture and tear em kind of vamp. "She paused and frowned. "He _can_ put you in a thrall though," she added.

Booth's jaw dropped before he laughed. "You're kidding right?!" When she just smiled at him, he gaped at her again. "Are you telling me you've actually met Dracula—THE Dracula?!"

"Yep, the one and only," she said, curling her legs up under her as she scooted closer to him on the couch. "He was more drama than fangs, but he could do this cool 'turn to smoke' thingy when I staked him…" She frowned. "Actually that was kind of frustrating. Give me the 'burst into dust when they're staked' kind of vamps any day."

Booth shook his head as he tried to wrap his mind around what she was saying. It was too weird and he moved away from her a bit. Buffy's expression turned to one of hurt when she noticed his withdrawal.

"You think I'm a freak now, right?" she asked in a small voice.

He opened his mouth to deny her words, but sighed instead. "I think freak is a little harsh, but I'm tripping out here, Buffy." He gave in to his need to touch her and ran his knuckles down the soft curve of her cheek. Her skin was so soft--like silk, warm silk. It made him hard just touching her face. His hand cupped her jaw and his thumb brushed along her bottom lip. He wanted to kiss her. He ached to lose himself in her, but refused to allow himself to get distracted by his feelings for her. This time he needed to keep his wits about him. "Do you blame me?" he asked huskilly, trying not to stare at her mouth.

Buffy leaned into his touch, until he withdrew it. She sat back, missing the feel of his hand, but sucked up her hurt--he had a right to be upset with her. It would be easier if he wasn't so sexy--so beautiful though. She looked away from his chocolate colored eyes. "Not really," she replied with a sigh. "I don't know why I'm surprised...it's not like this is anything new—freaky relationships and me—old friends," she said wryly.

He merely raised a curious brow at her, but remained quiet—he wasn't touching that one. "Okay, so what do we do now—get out the garlic, light some candles and what…? Go vampire hunting?" It sounded insane—even to his ears. How could he possibly explain it to someone else?

"Garlic doesn't do anything, but give em bad breath, but holy water does. I grabbed some when I was at that church, so we're good there, and I have plenty of stakes, so we're good there too," she said matter of fact, purposely avoiding Booth's wide eyed, 'you're crazy' look.

At that moment the room seemed to swell and the lights flickered as Willow suddenly shimmered in. She set her suitcase down and turned to spot Buffy. She gave the blond Slayer a wave before her eyes focused on Booth. "Wow--so it's really true..." she murmured.

Booth jumped and stared in wide-eyed horror/fascination as a slim red head suddenly just appeared. He grabbed his gun and jumped up from the couch, nearly kicking over his coffee table in the process. "Whoa! What the…?!" He aimed the gun at Willow. "Who are you and how the hell did you just appear in my living room?"

Willow almost screamed at the gun pointing at her—she reacted without thinking and whipped her hand to the right. Booth gasped as the gun was torn out of his hand. It flew right, hovered in mid air for a moment before coming to rest at Willow's feet. "Sorry, I hate guns," she said quietly.

Buffy bit back her groan. Booth looked seriously pissed and freaked out. "Wills what are you doing here? And why the dramatic entrance?" she asked, frowning at her friend. "The doorbell would have been fine, ya know?"

"I know, but I was trained on you—so I popped where you were. Sorry, I didn't know you were with An—"

"And how is Giles?" Buffy interrupted, shooting Willow a frantic look with a small shake of her head.

Willow looked confused. Usually Giles was a subject Buffy refused to even discuss, much less bring up. "Um…well he's Giles. Still stuffy and British, but other than that he's okay. He misses you," she added softly.

Buffy looked away, clearly uncomfortable, but she'd brought Giles up. "Oh." She bit her lip and changed the subject. "So why are you here?"

Booth let out a curse. "Okay, not to interrupt your reunion here, but is someone going to tell me what the hell is going on?" he snapped.

The bubbly red head grinned. "I'm Willow and sorry for the pop-in, but I needed to talk to Buffy, like pronto…"

He nodded numbly. This was just one more freaky thing that had happened to him since he'd met Buffy. "So what kind of kooky creature of the night are you?" Booth asked, putting his hands on his hips as he stared at Willow in a way that made the red head squirm.

"Oh no, I'm not a creature of the night—kooky maybe," she said with a smile. When he didn't laugh, she tried again to get him to stop scowling at her so fiercely. "I'm Willow and I'm a witch—but a good one, not the 'I'll get you my pretty' kind."

If anything his scowl deepened before he suddenly laughed humorlessly. "Of course you are!" He ran a hand through his hair. "And it get's even weirder," he muttered under his breath.

"Booth…Willow _is_ a witch, that's how she just kind-a showed up."

He folded his arms over his chest. "So where's your hat and broom, Witchy-Poo?" he asked flippantly.

Willow's expression turned disgruntled. "Not all witches are all hairy moles and broomsticks, you know? I'm more like…Glenda, but without the cool little wand. Oh and I don't ride a broom—I teleport—nifty huh?"

"You…teleport...right, of course—makes perfect sense," he said as he looked from Buffy to Willow. His brow to lowered until Buffy was worried he might sink into full on brood-mode. "Nifty really wasn't what I was going for. Freaky—'Exorcist' kind of weird…maybe, but nifty?" He shook his head. "Not so much," he replied wryly.

Willow looked hurt. "Oh," she said softly. "Well if it makes you feel any better I only do good magic now." She began to babble nervously as Booth turned his hard eyed on her. "Nope, no sir'ee—no more black-arts for me…"

"Okay, what the hell does she mean by that?" Booth asked Buffy, taking a step back from Willow as if afraid she might turn him into a toad or something.

Buffy groaned softly. "Would it's a long story suffice?"

Booth sighed. Buffy had turned his world upside down—now this? "No," he replied.

Buffy shot Willow a small glare as she quickly brushed over a bit of Willow's dark point, purposely leaving out the more gruesome parts like what happened to Warren.

Keeping a wary eye on Willow, Booth pulled Buffy aside. "Any other little surprises you're not telling me about?"

Buffy fidgeted and couldn't meet his eyes as she took on a 'just swallowed an egg' look. "Um…none that I can think of," she hedged in order to avoid any 'Angel' conversation. She could feel Willow's questioning gaze and avoided the witch's green eyes as she focused on Seeley. "I know this is like way more than I explained, but…well, I didn't think explaining about magic too would help—it'd just overload the senses and I didn't want to um…overwhelm you."

"Yeah, and this isn't? It's…insane. Crazy! Do you know I'd be fired and probably locked up in a rubber room if I tried to put all this in my report?"

Willow frowned at Buffy as she watched her good friend flat out lie. "Okay, I hate to be girl that put the poop in the party, but you have a serious problem here, Buffy and you're going to have to tell him the truth." Buffy opened her mouth to argue and Booth stepped closer, all ears now, but Willow simply held a hand. "No. I'm sorry, but we don't have the time to be squeamish. He needs to wear this..." she said pulling out the amulet, "and according to Giles, time isn't on our side in this, so if you don't tell him--I will," Willow stated, her 'resolve' face firmly in place.

****XXX****

Brennan was in her office going over Zack and Hodgins' findings. "This is impossible," she muttered aloud to herself just as Sully breezed in. Her head shot up. "What are you doing here?"

He smiled. "Good to see you too," he replied with a smile.

Brennan frowned. "That isn't what I asked. I thought we weren't supposed to meet until later," she said in her no nonsense manner.

"We aren't, but I heard you had a serial killer—thought I could help."

"Why?" Brennan asked, puzzled.

"I was a profiler for two years." She just continued to frown at him like a bug under a microscope and Sully explained, "Look, you're obviously dealing with a real sicko here, and I just thought maybe I can get inside this guy's head—you know…" he shrugged, "give you some advice on what he might do next."

Brennan looked skeptical. "I appreciate your offer, but logically speaking you know there's no way you can predict what a human being's reaction on any given circumstance will be. There are many different things that control human behavior. Thisng like social and societal—"

He held up a hand. "I know, Tempe, but I'm worried about you. Humor me and accept my offer to help here, okay?"

Brennan paused as she weighed it over in her mind. "Fine, but _only_ as an observer…" He started to smile, but stopped as she added, "_and_ only if Booth says its okay. This is his case and I can't just accept your help without discussing it with him first."

Sully nodded reluctantly. "Fine, but I'm good…which you already know...right?" he teased, trying to get playful with her.

Her eyes warned him off. "This is my work and speaking of work--I have a lot of bodies to get to and I still need to finish..." She motioned to the papers littering her desk. "Can we talk about this later?"

His smile faded altogether. "Sure," he said and left her office, not quite as breezily as he entered.

Brennan watched him go before turning back to her work. She frowned as she continued reading the reports on her desk. "This can't be. What are they thinking?" she muttered and grabbed the papers and headed out into the lab to find Zack and Hodgins. Brennan was perturbed and stunned at the same time. "Vampires!" She shook her head, unable to rationalize how her fellow scientists could have fallen into the deluded perception that this was something other than the work of a prolific serial killer.

When Brennan entered the lab, Cam and Zack were huddled over one body, while Hodgins was retrieving bugs off another.

Cam glanced up at Zack with a frown. "Well, since this one doesn't have a head, do we have enough for identification?"

Zack was examining the corpse with a concentrated frown. There were obvious signs of trauma—possibly torture on the flesh. "There's a tear in the Anterior Posterior, both here and here..." he said pointing to the shoulder area. "If you look at the subscapularis muscle…there is severe tissue damage." He moved his pointer down the victim's back. "And look at these marks between the first and fifth thoracic vertebrae. It appears to be some sort of torture—the injuries are healed and then re-opened." He pointed to the right forearm. "X-Rays show there are also multiple fractures along the ulna and right radius." He glanced up at Cam. "We could probably use the medical records to identify the victim—these type of injuries would have had to be reported."

Brennan swiped her card. "_Which_ I'm assuming wasn't killed by a vampire," she said, giving Zack a reproachful look. "Why are these bodies still covered in flesh?" she asked, snapping on a pair of gloves.

"Because Dr. Brennan, I haven't determined cause of death yet," Cam replied with a smile, but her authority was clear. "And until I decide the flesh can't tell me anything more—this is how they stay." When Bones frowned, Cam gave her another smile. "Last time I checked I _am_ still the loop that makes the decisions, but you'll have the bones soon enough."

Hodgins came over then. "This is so weird. I'm not finding any eggs of the specimens you'd normally find in the first stage of a decomposing body. They just aren't there. The only sign of insects I'm finding are the specimens that normally wouldn't show up for weeks—some time months later." He shook his head, but his smile was excited. "The only explanation is no blood—no first stage decomp. I'm telling you man—this was vampires. This body had no blood--so the bugs weren't interested."

Cam rolled her eyes and Dr. Brennan simply frowned as she began to examine the body too. "Besides delusions and conjecture of vampires, do we have anything solid that gives us cause of death?"

Cam grinned. "I thought you never jumped to conclusions—we haven't ruled anything out yet."

Brennan gaped at her. "Surely you aren't buying into this vampire theory? Why not say it was ghosts? Or Goblins?" she asked with a frown.

Cam shrugged. "I happen to believe in ghosts."

Brennan gave a small snort. "There's no such thing as ghosts."

"My mother came to me the day she died. I wasn't some kid, Dr. Brennan, I was 23," Cam said quietly. "She came to me and told me to look in her dresser, third drawer, behind her pink blouse. There was something there for me. It was a necklace…" She pointed to the chain around her neck. "This necklace. I never take it off. I feel closer to my mother with it on."

Brennan nodded, but looked unconvinced. "So you actually belive these bodies are all the work of a vampire?"

Cam shrugged the question off. "I didn't say that, but I've examined mob hits where they've hung and bled a body—there's always _some_ blood left…" She shrugged. "In these…? There's none. Nothing. Not even a drop." She made a face, "Gotta admit, it's weird."

"Weird maybe, but not logical. There's a scientific explanation for this—we just have to find it,' she said determinedly.

****XXX****

**Across town; The Church of Holy Saints:**

Father Donlan walked down the barren halls of the church. A very young, petite blond was with him. She was slim, petite and very pretty. Her blond hair was fastened in a bun at the nape of her neck and her hands were clutched together, as if in prayer as she followed a few paces behind the Priest. He wouldn't look at the beautiful young woman. He couldn't. What he was doing was a crime—it was worse than a crime—it was a sin against God and he'd be damned for eternity. He paused outside the demon's door. He already was—damned that is. The moment he'd signed his blood on that paper with those lawyers…he'd lost his soul.

Gathering his resolve, he placed his hand on the knob to the door that would lead the woman to her death. "Just wait here child and I'll prepare the room for you…have no fear…" He almost choked on the words. "You'll find…" His throat closed and he cleared it loudly. "Ahem, salvation…here," he said softly, unable to look her in the eye as he blatantly lied.

The young blond nodded gently, but kept her eyes downcast respectfully. "Thank you, Father," she replied bowing her head.

Donlan opened the door and slipped inside. Angelus was waiting. He pounced as soon as the old priest entered. He grabbed Donlan by the throat and pinned him against the wall. "Have the Svera Priest finished the spell, Priest?" he growled, flashing elongated fangs menacingly.

Father Donlan nearly wet himself in his fear. "Y-yes!" he gasped out, trembling at the sight of the frightening demon baring his teeth.

Angelus' red eyes searched his face looking for deception, finding none he dropped the man. "Good. I want my fucking body, Donlan and I want it yesterday, got it?"

"I-I have your other request w-waiting o-outside," Father Donlan stammered.

Angelus' pointy teeth flashed as he chuckled. "My little blond?"

Donlan nodded sickly. "Yes," he whispered.

"Well, what the fuck are you waiting for, Priest? Bring her in—I'm starving…" Angelus growled out, stalking over to a darkened corner of the room. He couldn't play his normal game of cat and mouse—not with the way he looked. It made him furious. He was a vain creature and he liked the way women had always responded to him. He couldn't just stand there and wait for them to fawn all over him anymore, in this body he was a monster, he had to use a surprise attack.

Father Donlan led the young blond woman into the room. The girl glanced around—she missed the glowing red eyes off to the side. "This is very kind of you Father. I can't think of a way that I can repay you, but—"

"I can," a deep voice growled and the woman gasped and her head whipped about, trying to find the source of that threatening voice.

"Who are you?" She glanced at the door and gasped again as Father Donlan shut it firmly. Chills raced up her spine as the distinct sound of a key turning in the lock was heard. With a small, choked cry, the girl made a mad dash to the door, inexplicably terrified.

Angelus met her in front of the door. She skidded to a stop, took one look at him and screamed. She backed away and began to pray. "Oh God, save me from this monster," she said softly.

"Bitch!" he snarled. "At one time you'd have begged for me…rolled over on your back and spread em for me and my face, pretty as you please..."

"Never!" she spat. "You're a creature of hell--you're disgusting!"

Angrily, he grabbed her around the waist with one arm while his other hand buried a hand in her hair and ripped it out of the bun she had it wrapped in. With a deep growl, he tilted her head violently to the side. "I was going to make this good for you, but now you've just pissed me off," he snapped and ripped into her neck with gusto, slurping her down with deep, greedy gulps until he'd completely drained her.

He dropped her dead body, wiped his mouth and grinned. "Mmmm, fear…I never get tired of that taste."

Now all he needed was his body back and he'd finally have Buffy exactly where he's wanted her—under him with his cock and fangs buried deep. Angelus purred and lay back down on his bed to envision that moment when he'd finally have the Slayer under him—it would be incredible—no better... He smirked. "It'll be fucking perfect," he said with a cruel twist of his lips. "Better than Soul-Boy's retarded fantasy any day of the week…"

****XXX****

****Okay guys I know this is late…but I had some family trauma this last week and before that I was sick. Not a good last two weeks for me, but anyways—I hope you like this chappie. I promise I will be getting back to the smut soon, but I really felt I needed to further this plot along—it's really going to start to get crazy now and NO—I am not going to tell you if they actually tell Booth he's Angel…that'll ruin everything!! lol! :) :) :)**

****Now feed my greedy little musie so she feeds me and then we can all get along fine. :) :) lol!****


	13. Chapter 13

**Still His Girl **

**A fic by: Jen**

**Rating: M**

**Disclaimer: I own none of the characters—no matter how much I wish I did!!**

**Thank you to everyone who has R&R'd this fic…You amaze me and inspire me. Thank you. :) :)**

**Okay, this is a long chappie, but...I just couldn't break it up. :)**

**Jen **

*****XXXX******

**Chappie 13**

_**Booth's apartment:**_

As Buffy and Willow carried on a silent battle of wills, Booth stared at the necklace Buffy's friend held in her hand. It was a long gold chain with a huge teardrop shaped crystal at the end . It was pretty, but far too girly for his tastes, not to mention, the whole 'he has to wear it' thing just freaked him out. He interrupted their heated 'eye-debate' when he snorted. "If you think I'm wearing that-that foofy-looking thing, you're even crazier than this whole story sounds," he muttered.

Both Willow and Buffy turned to him wearing similar expressions of surprise. "But—" Willow started, but Booth's features turned mulish and he crossed his arms.

"No buts. I'm not wearing it. It looks like a girl's necklace," he said, shaking his head in a chiding fashion. "Sorry, but I'm not big on accessorizing," he dead-panned. "And you can't make me," he added with a smirk.

"Wanna bet," Willow replied and whispered a few words in Latin. The necklace flashed golden and then disappeared.

Booth stared at her empty hand in open-mouthed surprise. "Where—?" He noticed Buffy's look of consternation as she stared at his chest so he glanced down and was stunned, pissed and more than a little wigged out to find the thing around his neck. "What the hell!" he sputtered as he stared at the huge crystal resting between his pectoral muscles. The crystal seemed to heat up. Booth could feel the warmth against his chest before it flowed through his body, making the tiny hairs on his neck stand up. As he watched; colors swirled inside the teardrop--a flash of red so deep and bright it was like blood and then a brilliant green infused the crystal. His head snapped up and he gaped at the witch before anger took over. "Son of a bitch!" he growled, rounding on Willow. He planted his hands on his hips and his dark eyes flashed with righteous fury. "Ok, rule number one—don't play witchy-poo on me—I'm not your 'pet-project' and I don't want you aiming your little magical fingers my way, got it?!" he growled and went to take the amulet off.

Willow murmured a few more words in Latin and Booth huffed in fury when he couldn't remove the thing. It felt like it weighed a thousand pounds when he tried to take it off, but was light as a feather around his neck. "I can't—what the hell did you do?" he snapped. He turned accusing eyes on Buffy. "Why can't I get this thing off? What did she do to me, Buffy?!"

"I…" She turned to Willow. "You're out of line. You can't just use magic on him like that. It isn't fair."

Willow gave Buffy a cool glance and shook her head. "Fair-shmare," she said. "I can't think about what's fair. I'm thinking about saving lives--his too. He wears the amulet and that's the way it is. I'm sorry if you two don't like it, but it's staying on." When Buffy looked like she was going to argue further Willow held up a hand to stop her. "Buffy, this is _the_ fight between good and evil and I want to make sure he stays on the right side, now are you going to tell him or—"

Booth felt like he was missing a huge piece of the puzzle and interrupted Willow. "What the hell do you mean _the_ fight between good and evil—there were others? And why wouldn't I be on the right side?" He turned to Buffy. "What is she talking about and don't tell me you don't know because we both know that would just be another lie!" he gritted out, angrily running his hand through his hair, mussing up further, his normally careless/just crawled out of bed looking hair-do.

Buffy's cell rang, and the Slayer almost crowed with relief. She glanced down to see who was calling. "It's Dawn." Her eyes begged Booth to be patient. "Please-just give me a second," she said and answered the phone. Dawn sounded panicked and her words poured out as soon as Buffy said "Hey Dawn, what's up?"

"Buffy, you gotta get Booth somewhere safe! Spike just came here and said he saw some of the Council's hit squad at this Pub not too far from the hotel."

Buffy's already accelerated pulse kicked up another notch. "Did they see him?" she asked, her brows drawing down. If Spike had led them back to the hotel she'd kill him.

"No, he said he snuck out before they saw him, but he listened to part of their conversation and they're definitely after Booth—they know he's Angel, Buffy… and it get's worse…" Buffy listened as her sister took a ragged breath before going on. "Oh my God, Buffy…they-they…" she started to gasp for breath and Buffy got even more anxious as Dawn sounded like she was hyperventilating.

"Breathe Dawn," she instructed. "Long deep breaths and then tell me what the hell is going on." Buffy listened as her sister took several long deep breaths. When Dawn sounded normal again, Buffy asked, "Okay, now what is it? What did he hear?"

Dawn still sounded like she was about to cry, but she didn't sound like she was about to pass out anymore. "Buffy, they're after you too. The Council…they've put a hit on you. They want you dead along with Booth! I—how could they do something like that? I can't believe it. What are we going to do?" she practically wailed.

Buffy understood how this information would break Dawn's illusion of the 'All-Mighty' Council. Truthfully, it was something the Slayer had secretly hoped for _and_ against, simultaneously, ever since Dawn had expressed a desire to become a Watcher. For her sisters' sake, Buffy had swallowed her reservations and hoped for the best, but throughout Dawn's association with the Council, the Slayer couldn't shake the feeling that whether old or new…the Council hadn't changed. They were still snakes. Sure enough, here it was, just a few years of power and the "new" Council was proving they weren't any different than the "old". To the younger Summers' sibling, this was devastating, but to Buffy, it was par for the course. They'd betrayed her before. She wasn't surprised they were doing it again.

"Listen Dawnie, don't worry. I'm not afraid of the Council…" Buffy paused, she couldn't tell Dawn about Angelus, not yet, especially since Booth was standing right here. "Just believe me when I say we have bigger fish to fry right now, okay?" she said. "Tell Spike to stay there until I get back. I need to talk to him. I'll be there in a little bit, okay? Try to stay calm," Buffy added softly.

After Dawn agreed, Buffy hung up the phone.

"Councils' goons are already here, aren't they?" Willow asked. "We figured they would be—that's why he needs to know everything, Buffy…even if it hurts."

Buffy brows lowered and she drilled Willow with a hard eyed stare. "You knew?" She advanced on her former best friend. "You knew they were coming for him and you didn't tell me that right away?!" The Slayer's fists clenched and she gave a short mirthless little laugh. "Wow, I didn't expect that from you, Willow." She shook her head. "But then again, it's funny how when it's someone I love you and Giles go all 'sacrificey', but when it's someone_ you_ love—it's all 'let's save em at all costs'!" She laughed again, it was a broken sound though, and Booth glared at Willow as Buffy started to shake with anger and pain. "No!" she spat. "I'm not going to just sit by while you make him miserable again." Buffy took a menacing step towards the red head. "To hurt him, you're going to have to go through me first," she said softly, but with a deadly calm that sent shivers up both Booth and Willow's spines.

Booth's eyes went back and forth between the two women as they seemed to face off. This was the last thing he needed now. He grabbed Buffy by the shoulders and pulled her back against his chest. "O-kay…hold off there tiger…I need some answers before you two go all 'glamorous ladies of wrestling' on me," he said, steering his lover away from the red headed witch. He glared at Willow as he soothed Buffy's anger with his touch. "Look, if this is about me—then just tell me. What the hell is it you think I need to know?" he demanded, giving Willow the 'look' he usually reserved for perps when he was interogating them.

"No!" Buffy snapped, yanking away from Booth. He pulled her back, and Buffy trembled in his embrace. Her eyes filled with tears as she stared at Willow, beseeching her to not do this. "You can't. Whistler said—"

Willow interrupted her. "I know what he said, I saw it in my vision, but the world is at stake here, Buffy, so excuse me if I'm not majorly concerned about your love life right now!" she shot back.

"My—what?!" In that moment Buffy couldn't help but notice the drastic changes that had taken place in Willow over the last four or five years. Gone was the bubbly, nervous girl she remembered from her youth and in her place was a strong, confident, and sometimes ruthless witch, and while the Slayer in Buffy admired Willow's cool demeanor, the girl in Buffy was hurt because this Willow was pretty much a complete stranger to her. It couldn't be clearer just _how much_ they'd grown apart until now.

"I don't know you at all anymore," Buffy whispered, her lower lip jutting a bit.

A brief flash of pain swept over Willow's features before her mask of determined indifference fell back into place. "I'm sorry, Buffy. I really am, but we're not in High School anymore. This is far bigger than any of us or our feelings. You used to know that," she chided.

"_Used_ to know that?!" Buffy's face hardened. "When have I ever _not_ known that, Wills?" she fired back. "I seem to remember sacrificing quite a bit in high school—what did you lose…a few fish? I sent the love of my life to hell!" The words were out before she could stop them. Buffy gasped and slapped a hand over her mouth wishing she could shove the words back. She turned to Booth and he was staring at her with a mixture of fascination, sympathy and more than a little jealousy.

Booth ran a shaky hand down his face. In that instant he realized he really didn't know anything about Buffy's past--but he loved her, as bizarre as it was--he _knew_ he loved her. He shook his head as if trying to clear it. "Okay, that's a story I'm not sure I want to hear, but what I want hasn't been an issue since you blew into my life, Buffy," he said wearily. "It seems all this has been out of my control from day one and I don't like it. I need answers and I need them now." He tilted Buffy's chin up so she was forced to meet his eyes. "No more excuses or half truths. What does all of this…" he waved a hand at Willow, but held Buffy's gaze with his own, "your friend and her magic--what does any of it have to do with me?" Buffy bit her lip in a way that Booth recognized now as a stall tactic. He crossed his arms over his chest. "No more bullshit, no more hedging, Buffy...just tell me the truth and let me deal with it, dammit!" he demanded harshly.

Defeated, Buffy wilted under his glare. "I—okay. But before I tell you—I know this is going to seem 'Outer-Limits-ey', but if it get's too weird, just tell me."

He snorted and rolled his eyes. "_If _it _get's_ too weird?!" He laughed. "Buffy, it's _been_ too weird for like the last hour, wouldn't you say? How much worse can it get?"

"A lot," she answered quietly. "Believe me."

The room flickered and flashed again. "You know kid, I'm getting sick and tired of popping in on this kind of conversation," Whistler growled as he and Doyle appeared in the room.

"What the hell?" Booth gasped, staring at the two demons. To everyone's surprise, except Willow's, he wasn't frozen. He glared at the two latest uninvited guests. "Don't any of you people knock before you just…pop in?"

Whistler shot Willow a furious glare. "Do you know what yu've done witch? Years of work--and you've ruined it!"

****XXXX****

**Palomar Hotel:**

Spike was reclining on Buffy's bed, while Dawn was talking to Buffy. He had a bottle of Jack Daniels, a mug of blood and a box of 'Wheat-a-Bix' on the bed. He sprinkled some of the crackers into his blood, stirred it around for texture, before he gulped it down. He then poured himself a healthy shot of JD and shot that back too as Dawn hung up with Buffy. "So what'd she say, Bit?" he asked pouring himself another shot of Jack.

Dawn flopped back on the opposite bed and huffed, "She acted like it wasn't a biggie. How can she be so calm about it?"

Spike took a sip of his whiskey and shrugged. "The Councils' done her dirty before, pet—she probably isn't surprised."

Dawn sat up and faced Spike. "How did they do her dirty, Spike? Tell me, because I know it has more to do with just Quentin Travers and all that drama he pulled a few years ago, but every time I bring it up, Buffy is always 'you _so_ don't wanna know about it'," She paused and chewed her lip. "The thing is…I _do_ want to know—I need to know," she said. Her big blue eyes gazed at Spike in a way he'd never failed to cave under. "Please…will you tell me what they did to her?" Spike looked away, clearly uncomfortable, but Dawn persisted. "Spike you're my friend. Tell me what poisoned my sister against the council."

Spike knew the Slayer was going to be pissed, but Dawn wasn't a child anymore, and with her looking at him like that—as he had in the past—he caved. "The first thing they did to her is called the Cruciamentum."

"What is that? I've heard about it, but no one ever told me what it was." Dawn said.

Spike took a sip off his bottle of J.D. "Basically it's a set up for the Slayer to die, Bit. The Slayer is drugged for days, made weak so all she has is her wits, no strength and then she's dropped into a situation with no escape and a hungry vamp." Dawn gasped and she shook her head in denial, but Spike nodded. "Yeah, they did…Very few have Slayers have ever survived it."

"But Buffy did," Dawn interjected.

"Yeah, she did, but it left scars, pet. Deep scars. The Council treat their Slayers as expendable property—not people. One dies another is chosen and all that rot. They never saw your sis for the unique Slayer she is—she put an end to that nonsense when she took Travers down and trained the Potentials herself."

"I get why she hates them now—they tried to kill her pretty much."

Spike shrugged. "I think the real reason she hates them, pet, is when they sent a team of assassins to L.A."

Dawn's eyes bugged. "No!" she breathed. "They tried to kill Angel?!"

"Well, technically…they were after Faith, but word is…if they had the opportunity—take him out, even if it wasn't necessary," He paused and raised a scarred brow. "Your sis is very hush-hush about that trip to L.A. so it's hard to say, but I got friends…" He leaned forward, "and what I heard is the Council goons were all set to take out Peaches, but your sis and the ponce defeated 'em, but after that Buffy decided the Council were her enemies rather than just a nuisance she didn't want to deal with anymore."

She nodded. "Thanks Spike," she said softly. She was quiet for a moment before she sighed. "Okay, so what do you want to do until Buffy gets here?"

He grabbed a deck of cards. "Poker?" he asked with a smirk and a wriggle of his brows.

Dawn grinned and jumped up. She climbed on the bed he was reclining on and sat cross-legged next to him. "Sure…" she agreed, giving him a saucy smile, "as long as it's not for kittens."

He rolled his eyes. "Will you people never stop teasing me about that—it was what they bet with alright? Now leave off will ya?"

Dawn giggled. "Okay—penny a point and straight Texas Hold-em, nothing wild," she said and Spike's brows rose.

"Where the bloody hell did you learn to play poker?"

Dawn just laughed again and slapped his shoulder playfully. "Spike, I've learned _a lot_ of things since you've been gone," she teased, her eyes sparkling with humor.

He gaped at her as visuals with all kinds of wicked meanings to that simple statement assailed his mind. He swallowed hard as his body responded. "Um…" His tongue wouldn't seem to work and all he could think was he wanted to taste her lucious, ripe lips. Did they taste as sweet as they looked? Shaking his head, Spike just barely managed to get control before he made a move and acted on his desires—visions of Buffy staking him stopped that.

He nodded and looked anywhere but at her enchanting face. "Penny a point it is then," he said, but as they played and laughed, Spike couldn't help but stare at her and the longer he watched her, the more he knew he was attracted and not in a brotherly way. The line between friend and lover was getting blurry and he knew he'd never look at her as Niblet ever again. She was a woman—a beautiful woman, and despite the fact that it freaked him out, and if Buffy found out, she'd most likely dust his arse, he knew wanted her. He scooted a little further away from her and the temptation she offered. Bloody hell—why did he always want women who were out of his reach?!

****XXX****

**Booth's place:**

Since Booth had no idea he was supposed to be frozen, the wide-mouthed 'fish out of water' looks he was getting were disconcerting. He glanced at Buffy. "Why are you staring at me like that?" he asked.

"I—um—" Buffy couldn't come up with a suitable reply. "I'm just worried how you're dealing with all this—it's a little much."

He laughed, but it was without humor. "That's putting it kind-a mildly, wouldn't you say? Finding out you're married or have a kid you didn't tell me about is a little much—this is beyond bizarre, Buffy—it's 'doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo' Twilight Zone, kind of weird!"

Doyle nudged Whistler and pointed to the amulet Booth was wearing. The red-headed demon tilted his head to study it then turned to Willow. "Nice trick," he growled, "but you've still blown it. You silly girl, what makes you think you know better than the Powers?!"

Willow wasn't intimidated. "Hmmm?" she said, rubbing her jaw. "Past experience with how the Powers treat their so-called Champions!" Her green eyes flashed. "Do you think I don't know the PTB's have an agenda in keeping him ignorant?!"

"We saved him you nit-wit! Of course we have an agenda!" Whistler snapped back, taking his hat off and wiping at his forehead. "Why else would we have saved him if we didn't?!"

Booth watched as Buffy's friend and the dude who looked like a '1960's ad for leisure suits' argued. He was trying to take in what they said, but he was more than a bit overwhelmed. "Saved who?" he growled, but they ignored him and kept arguing--it was beyond frustrating. He was used to being in charge--in this he felt totally out of control and he especially didn't like the way the dark haired one with the accent kept staring at him. "What the hell are you looking at, pal? Take a damned picture--it'll last longer," he snapped, resorting to child-hood taunts to get the guy to stop staring at him. It was giving him the heebie-jeebies.

Doyle grinned. "I'm a friend--trust me, boyo, I'm on your side."

"Whatever!" Booth scoffed, the guy wasn't threatening in any way shape or form, but Seeley was still wary, something about the blue eyed man was making him jittery. He kept getting the niggling sensation that he knew him. "Who are you?" Booth asked, stepping closer to Dpyle and raising a suspicious brow. he tilted his ehad to the side and studied the Irish half demon. "Have we met before?"

Buffy's heart accelerated. Something inside Booth recognized Doyle--it didn't surprise her, Angel and Doyle had been very close. "Booth you were right when I told you there was something I didn't tell you…"

"No kidding--really?" he commented with a snort.

Whistler growled, but Buffy had had enough. She turned to the badly dressed demon and poked a finger at him."No! We've tried it your way—being in the dark is only confusing him. It's time to tell him the whole story—even if he hates me for it."

Now that got Booth's attention. "Why would I hate you for telling me the truth?" He was about ready to go for his spare gun and demand they all come clean right now. "Buffy, I can't take any more—God dammit!" he cursed. "Just tell me already, will you?!"

"Okay," she said so softly—her voice was just barely above a defeated whisper. "But please—understand, I was only trying to protect you. I love you—I always have."

Booth's stomach churned. Maybe he didn't want to hear this after all. But…despite being alarmed at what she was about to tell him, he was too honest—too inquisitive by nature, and too much the detective to stay in the dark. "I know you love me, Buffy--go on...I'm listening," he nudged, trying to stay calm while his pulse raced out of control like he was running a marathon.

Whistler's face turned red with fury. "You can't do this, Slayer! The Powers don't want him knowing…"

Doyle grabbed Whistler's arm when he moved forward. "No man, I believe the lass is right. Not telling him is just making this harder." He looked at Willow. "Can ya remove the amulet for just a moment?"

Willow studied him. "You're going to tell him?"

"Aye lass, that I am." He wriggled his fingers. "With these if ya'd kindly remove that necklace—we both know it blocks any and all magic, right?"

Willow whispered the words to return the necklace to her hand and Booth shivered as he felt it leave his flesh. The spot where it rested seemed cold--freezing actually and he absently rubbed is chest as he waited for the answers he so desperately needed, but wasn't sure he really wanted to hear.

Doyle walked towards him and Booth jumped back. "Hey, what the hell are you up to?" the former vampire growled.

Doyle paused and held up his hands. "I just want to touch your head—just a minute of rubbing from these little babies, boyo and it'll all be clear for ya." Booth's look was so horrified, Doyle laughed. "Ach man, don't look at me like that! I didn't mean in a weird way if that's what's makin' ya so uncomfortable."

Booth shooed Doyle back like one would a pesky fly. He glanced at Buffy. "What is it with you and your 'touchy-feely' friends? First I had to deal with 'the bleached wonder' sniffing after me, now this one wants to rub me?"

If the situation hadn't been so disturbing, Buffy might have laughed at his comical look of utter horror, but it was disturbing and she was scared he would hate her once he had his memories back, so her giggle died in her throat. She laid a hand on Booth's taught bicep. His muscles were so tense, it was like he was made of chiseled stone. "He—it's not like that, Booth. He's magical. He gets visions and he can give you one that will make this whole situation make sense."

Booth still appeared skeptical, but Buffy's touch soothed him and he took a deep, ragged breath and shot Doyle a wary look. "Well magic or not, I don't want his fingers rubbing me anywhere!"

Doyle's eyes bugged and the look of distaste that crossed his handsome face was as funny as as Booth's. "What?" He saw Booth's lip curl as the agent moved a bit further away and Doyle shook his head vigorously. "You don't think...? Hey--no-no! You've got it all wrong, boyo! I'm not—"

Booth interrupted him. "Hey, I'm as open-minded as the next guy and different strokes for different folks and all that, but you're just not my type—the only fingers I want rubbing me are Buffy's." He realized how that sounded and to his further aggravation, he felt a flush creep up his neck. To make matters worse, Buffy's color heightened until her face was the shade of a ripe apple too.

Doyle chuckled. "Well, now that we're all embarrassed, what's say ya listen ta me, lad an' quit with the wild and—off-color accusations on me character. I'm not out ta cop a feel on you…" He winked at Booth. "No matter how handsome and brawny ye are…" he teased. Booth's scowl came roaring back and Buffy rolled her eyes at Doyle. The charming half/demon merely grinned, it was clear he was enjoying egging Angel/Booth on like this—it had been so long, after all, and the ex-vampire still reacted exactly the same. Doyle held his hands up in surrender when Booth looked ready to kill him. "I'm kidding ya man, I got meself a bonny lass—her tongue's a bit sharp, but I love the girl so I deal with it." he snorted, "But believe me, if me eyes wandered…Cordy'd have m' hide pinned to the wall, an' that's a fact!"

Buffy's jaw dropped. "You and—no way," she said clearly not seeing Doyle with her ex-nemesis. He was so sweet and…well…she wasn't! "Do you mean Cordy as in Queen C.—Cordelia Chase, the rudest girl in Sunnydale High history—Cordy?"

He laughed. "The one and only, she's not quite so rude—still loud with her opinions mind you, but I've managed ta warm the girl up a bit," he said with a devilish wink.

Whistler made a sound of frustration. "Irish as much as we're all enjoying hearing your version of 'The Taming of the Shrew'...we have a job to do and this isn't it…you're on your own here. I'm calling in the big guns--this mess is turning into a clean-up operation," he said and blinked out.

Doyle frowned. "Damn," the Irish demon said.

Buffy's face scrunched up in confusion. "Why is he calling a cleaner?" She looked around Booth's apartment. "I mean sure, this place is a little clutter-ey, but nothing that needs a cleaning service."

"Hey! I'm standing right here and my place is not...clutter-ey! It's...lived in," Booth said, scowling at her.

She patted his arm. "Of course it is...sorry honey," she replied. Booth's scowl was replaced with something that resembled a pout as he relaxed under her touch.

Doyle noticed how she calmed him--some things never changed and he laughed despite the seriousness of their situation. Angel had always gotten a twinkle in his eye when he talked about Buffy's charming, but sometimes frustrating habit of misinterpreting things. "Not a cleaning service--but a cleaner. They wipe people's minds..."

"Oh," Buffy said and then the realization of 'just who' was going to be wiped and her brows lowered. "Ooh--oh no."

"Yep, oh no is right, lass." Doyle glanced at Willow. "And not even your magical baubble will stop em, so I suggest we get this show on the road." He turned to Booth. "Okay, fun times over—if ya want to know the truth boyo, now's the time, cause my portly friend will be back with some blokes that'll make this impossible." Doyle glanced at Buffy. "I can send the vision through you, Buffy, if that'll make his man-liness feel better," he said, teasing, but serious too. Time was now of the essence.

Booth's brows lowered at the 'his manliness' comment and since he wasn't at all sure he wanted this vision thing, he stepped away from the group as a whole and crossed his arms over his chest in a defensive posture. "Look, I'm not big on this 'oogilly-boogily' magical crap, so why don't we do this the old-fashioned way and someone just 'tell' me what the hell you want me to remember, okay?"

"Don't have time, lad," Doyle shivered as he felt the anger of the Powers. "It's gotta be now."

Buffy's skin prickled. She was so torn—part of her wanted him to remember and part of her didn't—would each part of the man she loved understand?

Willow had listened enough. "Do it!" she snapped. Booth wasn't going for it, so she waved her hand and moved him across the room, putting him within Doyle's reach. Willow ignored Booth's cursing at her for using magic on him again and concentrated on Doyle. "Tell him before it's too late," she said.

Doyle sighed. "Okay, this might hurt a bit..." he warned, and then laid his hands along the side of Booth's temples.

Booth's knees wobbled as images began to flash in his head. It was beyond just painful--it was excruciating and he screamed as the pictures became clearer. An image of himself and a blond woman in an alley—she bit him and he fell to his knees in front of her, his face buried in her chest and he was drinking. It tasted like magic and he felt so feral—so alive, yet so dead and all at the same time…The vision changed and he was chasing something—hunting—the coppery scent of blood surrounded him—made his mouth water. Booth shuddered as more images assaulted him—the bleached blond showing him a bloody railroad pin and telling him to call him 'Spike' from now on—a dark haired woman who spoke of stars and dolls and called him her 'Angel'. Then there was pain and loneliness—rats. He was eating them. His stomach heaved and he fell to his knees. "No-no-no," he moaned softly, clutching himself around his belly protectively.

Buffy tried to rush over to him, but Willow stopped her. "You can't—if you stop him now—his brain won't have it all and he'll be stuck there."

Buffy yanked her arm away. "This was a mistake! Look at him--he's suffering!" She glared at Willow. "If he doesn't come out of this right—I'll never—ever forgive you!"

Pain crossed her face as Willow swallowed, looked away and then seemed to compose herself. "If it saves the world—then I'll deal with that, Buffy," she said quietly.

Doyle grunted as the images flowed through him and into Angel.

The former vampire groaned as the darkness was lifted by the appearance of a beautiful girl—she was sitting on some steps with a loli-pop in her mouth, so enchanting. It was Buffy and his heart felt light—like it was flying. They fell in love—he saw it all. The stolen, heated kisses, the fevered late-night groping, it was so good. Then there was a flash and they were wet and sitting on a bed in a dark apartment. Buffy was crying.

_"I feel like I lost you,"_ she said, sniffling. _"You're right though—we can't be sure of anything,"_ she breathed.

He saw himself—younger and the feelings—they were so intense. _"Ssshhh…I…"_ he started then stopped.

Buffy turned to look at him. _"You what?"_

His heart exploded and Booth felt the pain of this love—the conflict, but the pure joy too. "_I love you,"_ he saw himself whisper. "_I try not to, but I can't stop."_

Buffy leaned into him. "_Me-me too. I can't either,"_ she said and then they were kissing and it felt like the purest joy—like heaven on earth to be held in her arms. The love that washed over him was ferocious with its intensity. He saw them making love—it was beautiful, she was so perfect in her complete devotion…but then the pain came again. Lots of it. And the blood smell was back—then the fear of being a monster and Buffy was crying because he was leaving her. Why? He tried to push the pain away, but it kept coming and despite his efforts to shut off the memories they wouldn't stop--it was like a dam had burst and the tide of memories were flowing endlessly. He saw other blond, the one who'd bitten him—she had the look of a predator, slinky red dress and her hands were all over him, but she felt so cold—he was cold—everything was so, so cold…where was Buffy? He needed her to keep the darkness at bay. She was dead—gone and he was crying, alone and in the darkness again. Then he saw a baby. The child was like Parker, the feelings were the same—a son. A man came and took the boy, a man with glasses and an English accent.

Betrayal struck him and Booth's knees gave out as the searing agony of loss washed over him. "Noooo!" he screamed and fell forward. On his hands and knees he gasped for breath. "Connor!" he choked out.

"That's enough!" Buffy cried. "Doyle stop! Don't make him remember all that bad stuff—not Connor, or himself--his friends--oh God, don't let him remember L.A!" she cried.

Booth's body shuddered and the last piece of the puzzle slipped into place.

****flash-back****

**Los Angeles: 2003**

He was in a battle—a great battle. A city in ruin lay around him and the acrid stench of rotting flesh and death filled his nostrils. He stood amongst the rubble, a bloody sword in hand while the bodies of demons lay everywhere around him. Death had become his mantra—so many lost. Nearly everyone he'd ever loved was gone. Doyle, Cordy, Gunn, Wes, Fred…even Buffy was lost to him. The day she'd turned her back on him—she'd essentially told him he was dead to her. It had nearly killed him--but he'd managed to deal with the pain. He was used to the agony that was his undying love for Buffy by now.

Forced back to the present, Angel deftly avoided one demon's attack, while spinning and slicing another demon in half with his claymore. He rounded on the first demon and removed his head with one forceful blow before turning his head to watch as Illyria rained her wrath down upon any and all demon's she faced. Her power was massive and she defeated them by the dozens. She may not be a team player, but she was enraged at Wesley's death, and it was good to have the dethroned God on his side.

He heard the mighty swish of wings flapping and glanced up to the sky. The dragon was making another pass and this time he was ready for it.

"Angel!" Spike screamed and his head whipped towards his childe. He watched as Spike neatly decapitated the Drekklaar demon he was fighting before the blonde yelled, "Behind you." Angel noticed Spike's gaze was focused behind his left shoulder and turned in that direction. His jaw dropped along with his stomach when spotted his son coming towards him.

"Dad!" Connor yelled, rushing across the field of battle, slaying demons quickly and easily as he struggled to get to Angel's side.

"Connor, no!" he screamed. "Get back!" The Dragon breathed its deadly fire and Angel leaped, tackling his son to the ground, shielding Connor's body with his own. He felt the fire lick along the leather of his jacket and he jumped up, tossed the jacket off, and then laid back down, instinctively willing to sacrifice his own life for his child as only a parent would do. He kept Connor pinned beneath him as he felt the whoosh of mighty wings as the beast passed over them. He sat up and gave his son a cursory once over—checking for injuries. "Are you alright?" he asked.

Connor grunted and tried to shove his father off him. "I'd be better if you'd get off me—you weigh a ton!"

"Hey I'm a vampire—we don't get fat!"

Connor raised a brow and his lips twitched. "Tell that to your gut, Dad—I think you ought'a lay off the fatty blood!"

Disproving that statement, Angel agilely leaped to his feet. He chuckled as he grabbed his son's wrist and easily yanked the boy to his feet. He grabbed Connor in a huge bear hug and squeezed him tightly, before holding him at arm's length. "What are you doing here?" he growled. "It's too dangerous—you need to go."

"I'm here to help—we fight side by side—remember?"

Fear and panic rose up in Angel's throat as he noticed the dragon make a sweeping turn and head back towards them, its mouth opening wide to spew forth its deadly breath. He shoved Connor towards the ruined building that was once the bustling office of Wolfram & Hart. "Run!" he yelled

Stubbornly the boy refused to leave. "Not without you," he shot back.

The dragon was getting closer and terror for his child swept through Angel. "God dammit, don't argue with me boy—run!"

"No. I won't leave you to face that thing alone," Connor insisted.

Terrified, Angel resorted to a lie. "I'll be right behind you," he said.

Connor's look was suspicious. "You promise?"

To protect his son, the lie came ridiculously easy. "I promise, now run, Connor—please!" he screamed frantic to get his son away from the creature.

Connor took off, his speed and agility allowed him to reach the safety of the building long before the enormous bulk of the dragon as it swooped down where Angel still stood. "Dad!" he yelled, sick as he realized his father was still out there.

He started to run out to help, but Spike grabbed him by the shoulder. "Sorry pup, but Daddy'd be right brassed off if ya went and got yerself killed! You'll be staying rigth here…"

Connor struggled to get free, but Spike was far stronger than he was and held him at bay easily. "That thing'll kill him!" Connor screamed as watched his father waiting for the dragon.

Spike noticed the grin of anticipation flash across his Sire's face and smirked. "He'll be fine, kid. That wanker is too bloody stubborn to just up and die over a sodding dragon! Trust me, I lived with the bloke for a hundred years!"

Angel caught Spike's eye at the exact moment the dragon flapped its massive wings at it descended on him. The smirk the dark haired vampire wore was far more Angelus than Angel and Spike nodded. "Yep, too bloody stubborn," he said. "You'll be waitin' here," he said and kept Connor contained. "Bloody show off!" Spike yelled.

Across the battlefield Angel knew Spike had Connor and that his son was safe…That was all he could hope for--now it was time to slay the dragon. Adrenaline raced through Angel's body as he waited for his prey. He laughed as he heard Spike. "You're just jealous you didn't get to slay a dragon, boy!" he yelled and leaped on the beast's back.

With brute strength, Angel shimmied up the dragon's rough, scaly body and managed to grab hold of the beast's neck. Once he had a firm hold, he reached behind him and pulled his claymore out. The dragon shook its mighty body like a dog shaking water off its back and Angel's hold on the creatures neck slipped. He slid down the creature's bumby back, but manged to grab hold of one of the horns that grew along the dragon's spine. Infuriated, the monster tried again to shake Angel off, but Angel clung to its back like a tick--refusiung to let go. With his left hand he activated his wrist stakes and used them to inch forward along the dragon's back. With sheer willpower and determination he made his way towards the dragon's head again by using his stake as leverage to to stab the beast, then crawl up its back--stab and crawl--stab and crawl...over and over he repeated the process until he was able to wrap his arm around the dragon's neck again. This time he used his stake to keep himself atached as he swung himself around so that he was facing the creature's chest; his left wrist stake was buried in the scaly neck while his right hand clutched his sword.

With a fierce growl Angel slashed at the beast with his claymore. It howled in pain and rage and tried to take a bite out of Angel, but the dark vampire batted the huge head away with his sword—he was going to win this fight--he'd lost so much--in this he was determined, and that was that. With a snarl born of fury for all he'd lost, Angel hacked at the dragon's mighty chest and wings with his sword. The monster let out a loud wail as it lost the power in one of its wings. The wing sputtered, but refused to flap anymore. It lay broken and hanging from the dragon's body in a bloody mess. Angel swore he could almost see hatred in the red eye that glared at him as the dragon began to fall from the sky. Angel managed to get back around so that he was on the beast's back when it hit the earth with a thud and skidded across the battlefield that had once been downtown Los Angeles. Dead demon bodies went flying as the dragon plowed through them like a hot knife through butter. When it finally came to a stop, it attempted to roll over, to crush the vampire that was attacking it so fiercely, but Angel leaped off just in time, and the dragon's red eyes blazed even brighter. With a roar it raised its head and with a last burst of strength it spit out a blast of fire Angel's way. The vampire avoided getting roasted by mere inches. When the fire wheezed to nothing more than a puff of smoke, Angel attacked again. He straddled the creature's belly and raised his sword high...

Off to the side, Spike and Connor watched in awe as Angel indeed defeated the mighty dragon. "See—just like I said…bloody show-off," Spike muttered.

Connor smirked. "He's right—you are jealous!"

Spike shot him a glare. "Brat," he muttered, but then his attention was drawn back to Angel and the dragon, as was Connor's. Neither son, nor childe expected what happened next…

Angel's sword came down hard, slashing open the monster's chest and piercing its heart, but when he did that, a huge burst of flaming lava like substance spewed forth, and before Connor or Spike could move, it splashed across Angel's chest and arms. The dark vampire screamed, but stayed where he was, making sure the dragon was good and dead. Bright orange and yellow flames licked along his chest and arms, but Angel was more intent on killing the beast, than saving himself. The dragon gave a final groan and its head rolled to the side as its eyes rolled and a long forked tongue slid out of its mouth. Finally it was dead, but within seconds Angel was being engulfed in those bright orange flames.

No!" Spike and Connor both yelled in unison, too stunned to anything more than watch in horror as Angel lit up and began to disintegrate. Connor heard his father yell his name.

"Dad, I'm coming!" Connor cried, and before Spike could stop him, he'd raced across the space and leaped on top of Angel in an attempt to put out the flames. But it was too late—the damage was done. With his last breath, Angel cried out for what he'd lost, "Buffy!" he screamed, and then turned to nothing more than soft, flaky dust under his son's grasping hands.

Stricken; Connor fell to his knees sobbing as his father's ashes floated around him. Spike put a hand on his shoulder, but the blond vampire didn't know what to say, the boy's eyes had a lost—almost child-like look. "No," Connor cried, rubbing his eyes with a dirty fist. "It wasn't supposed to happen this way…I was just getting to know you…" he whispered sadly, trying to collect the ashes. he dug a handkerchief out of his pocket and began gathering Angel's ashes, his actions were desperate as if that would keep his father there—with him.

****End flashback***

"Connor—no," Booth gasped. The pain…it was horrible. Unlike anything he'd ever imagined. He could _feel_ his insides boiling. Booth convulsed, writhing on the ground as the agony of being burned alive washed over him. It wasn't supposed to end like this. He struggled to come out of it, but he was turning to dust—disintegrating and it hurt all over. He clawed at his chest, ripping open his shirt as he tried to ease the burning pain. "No!" he panted as he fell forward again and curled into a ball of misery. "It hurts…" He stiffened and his body went into something that resembled an epileptic fit. "Buffy!" he yelled, right before he passed out.

****XXX****

**Okay guys…that was **_**my**_** take on what happened after NFA…I know it's sad, but remember what happened after—he became Booth, so **_**not too**_** sad, right?? Now please feed the musie because this fic is almost wrapped up…just about 3 more chappies and it's over. Thank you to all of you who have supported it and reviewed, you've made this fic a pleasure and adventure to write!! :) :) :) **

**_Jen_**


	14. Chapter 14

Still His Girl

A fic by Jen

Pairing: Booth/Buffy

Rating: M

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters from Bones or BtVS…I wish I owned DB, but…*sobs* alas I do not!

A/N: Okay—I know I haven't posted on this in a long time, but musie is a fickle little thing and I also wanted to finish it BEFORE I posted on it again. Here's the latest chappie. I want to thank you all for loving, supporting and patiently waiting for this fic. Seriously, you are the best…

Now enough of my chit-chat—on with the show! Right?

Hugs,

Jen

* * *

Chappie 14

Booth stiffened and his body went into something that resembled an epileptic fit as the flashback of his life as Angel ended. "Connor…" he gasped. His body jerked again. "Buffy!" he shouted and toppled forward, landing on his face with a thud.

The room seemed to freeze as the dark haired ex-vampire fell to the floor. He lay there for several seconds seemingly unconscious before suddenly jerking up and letting out an agonized scream that sent chills up the spines of everyone in the room. He swatted at his arms and chest furiously as if experiencing the fire all over again. He had no sense of anyone as he opened his mouth and screamed Buffy's name, the muscles and tendons in his neck and arms bulged with the agony he was experiencing and Buffy had to forcibly restrain herself from going to him. It seemed to go on forever and Buffy was crying freely when he finally got to his hands and knees panting. You could have heard a pin drop in the room when he raised his head and looked around the room in a daze. "What happened?" he croaked.

No one said a word and Angel's eyes flickered across the room, trying to find something familiar. This was worse than when he came back from hell. At least then he was an animal without any memories. This time Angel felt like he was coming out of a fog—a peaceful, happy fog, so why had he thought he was on fire? Was he in Hell again? He scanned the room again warily. He had no idea where he was, but then he saw _her_ and a sense of peace settled over him again. He couldn't be in Hell, not if Buffy was here. She was light—everything good, so he must still be in Heaven. "Buffy," he choked out, blinking those big dark eyes at her. "How…?" He tried to sit up, but he felt so weak and only managed to fall back again. "Where am I?" he asked, finally settling on putting his hands on his knees and keeping himself upright by sheer force of will.

"Booth?" she asked tentatively, stepping forward.

Angel shook his head as if to clear it. "Who?" His brows drew down and he stared at her in confusion. "Why are you calling me Booth—don't you recognize me?" he asked her, clearly disorientated, but there was a shadow of hurt there that she'd called him by another man's name.

Buffy's stomach dropped to her toes and the tears flowed like wine at an Italian wedding as she recognized that soulful—worshipful kind of love shining in those dark brown eyes. She took two quick steps forward. "Angel?" she whispered, shuddering to a stop as her knees wobbled and threatened to give out on her.

"Yeah, it's me. Who's Booth and why did you call me that?" Buffy fumbled, fidgeting as she wracked her brain for the appropriate reply, but she was saved from answering when Angel noticed Doyle. His eyes widened. "Doyle? But you're—"

"Supposedly dead?" the Irishman supplied. Angel nodded, still looking confused as he ran a shaky hand down his face. Doyle shrugged. "Well, you know how those crazy Powers are boyo—nothing ever really stays dead, right?" he joked nervously—it was obvious Angel wasn't remembering anything about being Seeley Booth yet. Angel asked if he was in heaven too and Doyle suddenly had the urge to catch the next jet to another dimension. "No man, we're not in heaven. You're alive—don't ya remember?" Angel frowned at his friend, but the sudden pounding in his chest caught his attention then and he placed a hand to it in wonder. "What's the last thing ya remember, Angel?" he asked.

"I—I don't know," he said running a hand through his hair as he finally managed to sit up. "Why do I feel so weak?" He turned to the Buffy. She'd always been his shining light at the end of whatever tunnel he was in and he looked to her for answers now. "Buffy—what happened? Where am I and how did I get here?"

Swallowing back her own conflicted emotions, Buffy came to kneel beside him. "Angel, I don't know how to exactly explain it," she started, but before she got any further he reached out and hauled her to him and she was crushed in his strong embrace. He clung to her like she was his life-line, holding her so tightly she thought he'd actually turned vamp again.

Angel buried his face in the side of her neck, inhaling the sweet smell of vanilla and something uniquely Buffy. It was just her scent and it was the closest thing to a feeling of coming home that he'd ever had. "Buffy—I never—I thought you were lost to me forever," he said softly against her throat.

She wrapped her arms around him and tears rolled down her cheeks as she stroked her hands through his soft dark hair. She murmured soothing words while placing tender kisses along his jaw and cheeks, before finally kissing his lips with a gentle wonder. She'd thought he was lost too, but she didn't say that. "Oh Angel, never, even if you were gone, I'd never stop looking for you. I didn't stop…" she whispered, cradling him to her. "I love you. I've always loved you."

They stayed like that for several long quiet moments. No one said a word, as the two lovers clung to each other. Angel held onto Buffy like she was the only thing in this world that made sense to him and Buffy cradled his head to her breast, rocking him like he was a small child. The moment was magical. Willow looked away, the private moment almost too intimate to look upon. Doyle was so choked up he looked ready to cry and even Whistler looked affected as he loosened his collar. It was too beautiful. The love Buffy and Angel shared just seemed to fill the room with a golden glow, that is until suddenly Angel stiffened in her arms.

"You betrayed me!" he bit out, yanking himself out of her embrace so quickly that Buffy lost her balance and landed on her rear end on the floor. She gazed up at him, hazel eyes wide as his face contorted. "You said you didn't trust me anymore!" he accused. Then his lip curled and an expression so ugly crossed his face Buffy swore she was looking at Angelus again. "You let Fred die!" His eyes shot to Willow. "She was hijacked by some God and you and Giles—all of you could have helped but you didn't. You said I was evil, so what the hell are you doing here now?"

Doyle glanced to Whistler; who shrugged. "Hey, telling him was your idea, not mine," he said. "He'll have to remember in his own time."

Buffy tried to touch his arm, but he yanked it back. "Don't touch me!" he snarled. Her lower lip trembled and the words that exonerated her in that whole debacle died in her throat. His chest heaved as he stared down at her like she was something nasty he'd just stepped in.

"Angel, I—" His jaw clenched and Buffy's face paled when she saw something she never thought to see in Angel's eyes, at least not directed at her. He was looking at her like he hated her. Her little shoulders drooped and she sagged against the couch as if all the life had been sucked right out of her.

Willow stepped forward. "Angel, I know this is all a little much, but we don't have time for blame games. I'm sorry, but there's more important things going on right now than you and Buffy's past. You need to remember—"

He glared at her. "Yeah, maybe to you and I do remember!" he snapped. "I remember you—" His words screeched to a halt as a blinding white hot pain exploded behind his eyes. "Aaagghh!" he yelled, gripping his head as memories began to flood his brain, assailing him from all sides and so quickly that it felt like his head was being torn in two. Everything rushed in—Los Angeles, Wolfram & Hart. Cordy and Wes dying. The alley—rain and fire, with he and Spike battling more demons than they could count. Connor showing up at the last minute. He saw a near dead Gunn still crawling out to battle even though his guts were hanging out and a look of fury passed over his handsome features. Quick as a cat he scooted away from Buffy. "You left us to die!" he roared glaring at her as if she were the devil himself.

Buffy looked like she was going to be sick. She reached out her hand to him again, but he smacked it away. "Angel please…let me explain," she whispered brokenly.

He made a chopping motion with his hand. "Don't give me that pouting bullshit!" he snarled. Buffy clapped a hand over her mouth to keep her tears from choking out of her, but Angel didn't seem to care. He gave a sarcastic snort that hurt almost as much as his anger."You know Buffy, that pout may have worked before, but truthfully I've kind of lost the urge to protect you—maybe it had something to do with you calling me evil, hmmm?" he said, lashing out at her. Buffy was crying now and he smirked at her in a way that was truly Angelus-y. "Go ahead and cry—I did when you called me evil…did you know that?" he said. He shook his head. "No, of course you didn't because you weren't here. You didn't give a shit—so don't pretend you do now!"

"Angel I didn't know!" Buffy finally said in her defense. "Giles didn't even tell me about your situation—I would have come…"

"She's telling the truth," Willow added. "Giles didn't want her distracted from our mission with the Immortal so he didn't tell her until it was too late."

That gave him pause, but the pain was brutally fresh all over again and he reacted from that place. "Yeah whatever, that's easy to—" He stopped mid-sentence as memories of the dragon and being on fire flooded his brain. "Wait! I died!" he gasped. His eyes flickered around the room for a second before he gave another short mirthless laugh. "And you all brought me back! Great! I guess the whole earning peace when you die saving the world is a foreign concept to you, isn't it?" He directed that comment to Willow mistakenly assuming she'd brought him back like she had Buffy at one time.

"Angel…" Buffy started, but he leaped to his feet and stomped away from her.

Whistler chose that moment to step in. "Look kid, if you're done having your tantrum I can explain."

Angel turned hostile eyes on him. He crossed his arms over his chest and raised a brow. "Let me guess, some big bad is threatening the world again and you needed my help so you dragged me back?" he asked sarcastically.

"Um—well something like that, but not exactly," Doyle said.

Angel couldn't be angry at his old friend and his eyes softened. "Doyle, tell me what the hell is going on. I don't remember anything after L.A. What happened?" he asked softly.

"You saved the world and earned your Shanshu, boyo," the Irish man said.

"So it was the Powers that brought me back?" Doyle nodded. "Then where am I? This isn't my place in L.A. and how long have I been gone?"

"Um…well that's the thing…" Doyle hedged as Whistler gave him a warning look. The aquamarine eyed half demon nodded. They couldn't make him remember anymore—it would have to come to him. "You fought the dragon that day, right?"

Angel frowned, "Yeah," he agreed, trying to put the memories still assailing him at random into some kind of order. "I remember the dragon. Me and Spike fighting and—" His eyes bulged. "Oh God, Connor! He came after me—tried to help me." He whipped about to Whistler and stalked across the room to grab the smaller man by his jacket. "Where is he?" Whistler looked away uncomfortably and Angel's gut tightened in dread. Answer me! Where's my son?!" the ex-vampire demanded, shaking the little demon until his teeth rattled.

Buffy stuffed a fist in her mouth to stop her sobs as she watched the scene before her. It was going from bad to worse and she'd known this would happen. Her gut had warned her, but she'd foolishly gone along with Willow's plan because somewhere, even as happy as she'd been with Booth, a part of her had wanted her Angel back. Well, now he was back, except he wasn't hers anymore. She wanted to go curl up in a corner and cry, but she stayed put. Even if he hated her, he was going to need her and this time she was determined to be here for him.

Whistler finally managed to pry Angel's hands off him. He fixed his suit jacket as he tried to find an easy way to tell the angry man his news. He glanced at Doyle for help, but Doyle had suddenly found his feet utterly fascinating and wouldn't meet Whistler's eyes. The demon gave a small snort in annoyance, but when Angel clenched his fists and came at him again, he held a hand up. "No need to get physical again, big guy. I'll tell you, but you're not going to like it."

Angel crossed his arms over his chest. "Just tell me," he bit out.

"Look, I'm sorry Angel, but the kid didn't make it. He—"

Angel's roar cut him off. "The Powers saved me, but not him?!" He grabbed Whistler again and tossed him against the wall. He didn't have vamp strength anymore, but he was still a big, strong guy and Whistler wasn't. A sickening sorrow was threatening to overwhelm the ex-vampire as he absorbed the knowledge that Connor was dead. They'd let him die. "That's so predictable." He put his hands on his hips and shook his head. "Well, let me give you a message for them…if they think I'm still their errand boy—they're out of their higher minds!"

"Angel, you gotta listen to reason man," Doyle said, but this time Angel wasn't interested in even what Doyle had to say.

"No, see I really don't. I don't care what the Powers have planned. Had they saved my son…saved my friends—someone I loved, then maybe I would have, but I stopped caring the second you told me that everyone I love is dead." His eyes flickered over to Buffy when she made a whimper of pain at being left out of his 'people he loved' list. He almost went to her because that sound still had the power to hurt him, but he ignored it and her and grabbed a jacket lying next to the couch instead. He shrugged it on, not at all surprised that it fit him. This place felt familiar and he somehow knew it was his home even if he had no memory of it yet. "I need to get out of here and away from this for a minute," he said gruffly. What he really needed was to be alone—to mourn losing his son and he supposed everything else too.

Buffy started to grab her jacket too. "Angel, can we please talk?"

"Not right now." His eyes were still hard, but they weren't filled with hatred anymore. "Maybe not ever," he added with a sigh. Buffy's shoulders sagged again and he hesitated. She looked so sad and while he wasn't sure of her anymore—not like he used to be, her pain still made him ache and he didn't want to keep hurting her, especially if she hadn't betrayed him. But the fact was he simply just couldn't do this with her—at least not yet. "We'll…talk, but not now, okay?" Her eyes lightened at that and he nodded at her a small smile tilting up one side of his mouth."I promise, but right now I just need some…time, alright?"

Hope sprung up in her. "I get it, but you're open to us talking in the future, right?" He nodded. "Alright. I'll deal. Um, do you mind if I ask where you're going?"

He shrugged. "I was going to stand on the porch."

A relieved look crossed Buffy's face. "Oh—just a trip to the porch—okay, um…we'll just…ah…wait here for you then."

Willow's eyes widened when it became apparent the Slayer wasn't going to stop him. She nudged Buffy, but the Slayer ignored her, shaking her head at Willow in an effort to just give him a minute, but Willow wasn't having it. Time was of the essence in her mind and she didn't have the time to coddle Angel's feelings. "You can't leave. There's too much going on—things you need to know first," she said when he headed for the door.

He had no interest in anything she had to say—she obviously had known about what was happening in L.A. and had chosen to not tell Buffy. He shot her a smirk as he opened the door. "Really?" He gave a short bark of angry laughter. He didn't forgive Willow and didn't know if he ever would—Giles either. "Watch me!" he snapped and without waiting for a reply, slammed out of the apartment.

"Buffy, why didn't you do something?!" Willow demanded. "He has to know about being Booth and Angelus—you have to go after him." Buffy ignored her outburst. Her brows were drawn down and she looked deep in thought. Willow gave a loud huff. "Fine, if you won't, I will," she said.

Buffy moved so fast Willow was stunned to suddenly find herself pinned against the wall. "Wave those witchy hands in his direction again and you'll have nothing but stumps left, Wills. I swear it," she said fiercely. She let her friend go with a sigh. Willow rubbed her throat where Buffy's hand had been. Buffy wrapped her arms around her middle. "We've done enough to him today. Didn't you hear him? He's just going out to the porch. Let him come to grips with everything and then he'll help. It's who he is, so just give him a minute to deal and then we'll drop the rest of our bombs on him. You know he is only human now—just how much misery do you want to lump on him in one day?" Buffy growled. "I mean, he just found out his son died, Willow! God, what happened to you? You used to care about people more!"

"I lost someone I loved too, Buffy or have you forgotten that?"

"Well, let's hope he doesn't react like you did, huh?"

"That's not fair," Willow snapped.

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Yeah, it is. If Angel had done what you did all of you would have demanded I stake him—so don't talk about fair. When he's ready to come back in, he will. Until then leave him alone."

Willow started to argue, but Whistler nodded and agreed with Buffy. "The Slayer's right. He has no memory of being Booth yet—it'll hit him and he'll work it out. Angel's got heart—it's why the Powers chose him." The older demon turned to Doyle. "Now we gotta go—you," he said motioning to Doyle, "get to explain to the big guys up there how this all went so wrong."

Doyle sighed. He was going to be in trouble with his Princess and the powers for mucking this up so badly, but he also knew Angel. The man was the real deal, so Doyle knew he'd rise to the occasion, take up the hero mantle again and be ready to fight when the time came. But he at least wanted to say goodbye this time. "Maybe you better go check on him just the same"

Buffy went to the door and opened it. He wasn't on the porch and she looked around. He wasn't in the front at all and it took her a second to realize the big black SUV was gone. Uh-oh. She turned back to everyone, chewing her bottom lip. "Okay, well that trip to the porch just got a lot longer…he's gone," she said softly.

Willow threw her hands up in the air. "Great! I told you to stop him!"

Buffy shot her friend a glare. "So not with the helping," she muttered.

"Where do ya think he'd go lass?" Doyle asked.

Buffy shrugged. "He's in a city he doesn't really remember—"

Whistler shook his head. That's not really true. His memories of Booth haven't surfaced yet, but they're still there. He may have remembered when he walked out the door, who knows?"

Buffy fidgeted nervously wondering what he was doing. Was he okay? "Well, he's in pain. We have to find him." She gave Whistler and Doyle an exasperated scowl. "Come on you're both flunkies for the PTB's right?" Doyle and Whistler both bristled at that term, but nodded just the same. Buffy waited, tapping her foot. She crossed her arms over her chest. "Well…can't you…I don't know…feel him or something? Track him somehow?"

"It doesn't work that way. He doesn't have a supernatural lo-jack installed, you know," Whistler deadpanned. Buffy shot him a look that said clearly she was not amused. he sighed. "Tough crowd."

"About to get tougher," Buffy growled advancing on him with her tiny fists clenched.

Whistler held up his hands. "Hey, one pummeling a night is all I can take. Look kid, I'd love to wave a magic wand and tell ya where he went, but I can't. He's human now, plus me and the sap here need to get back." Doyle balked at being called a sap, but he did agree they needed to explain to the PTB's what happened here. "Look," Whistler continued, "We've been here and interfered a hell of a lot more than we were supposed to," he said giving Doyle another baleful glare.

"I can do a locator spell, but I need my herbs and tools. Also, I should check in with Giles—see if he's figured out the ritual Angelus will use to get his body back." The red headed witch turned to Buffy. "Buffy, I know I seem harsh and I'm sorry, but I thought you of all people would understand sometimes we have to put our own happiness to the side when it comes to saving the world."

Buffy's eyes about popped from her head at that hypocritical statement. "Seriously? Miss I'm going to end the world cause I lost my girlfriend—you're really saying that to me?"

Willow's eyes narrowed. "Like you haven't jeopardized all of us for love, Buffy?' She made a scoffing sound. "Really," she said with an eye roll. Before Buffy could reply the red head was talking again. "I'm going to get my supplies, I'll be back," she said and teleported out leaving Buffy standing there furiously glaring at the spot she'd been standing.

"Nifty trick she's learned," Whistler commented.

"Yeah, real nifty," Buffy ground out. "But she's lost what used to make her Willow," the Slayer said sadly as it finally became very real to her that Willow and her weren't really friends anymore.

"We need to get back and report to the bosses—this thing with Angelus is about to kick off and we need all the players ready. You've spent time with Booth. Do you know where he'd go?" Whistler asked.

Buffy sighed. "No, but…" Her eyes lit up. "I think I know someone who might," she said. "Look, you guys go handle whatever it is you have to handle. I'm the Slayer—I'll deal with Angelus. I know where he's at. Just get me the Intel on how to kill him, but right now I'm more worried about Angel's state of mind, so if we're done here…I need to call a cab and get back to the hotel and my car."

Doyle and Whistler agreed and after arranging a new meeting time and place, they popped out. After calling a taxi service, Buffy sat down to wait. Now all she had to do was figure out just 'what' she was going to say to Booth's partner to get her to spill. Temperance Brennan didn't seem like the type to get intimidated easily or go for the mystical and Buffy was all about the supernatural. She sighed. This should be interesting indeed.

* * *

Angelus turned as the Father Donlan entered his room. "Finally! Where the fuck have you been?" he snarled savagely. "The Svera Priests are here—ready to do the ritual. Can't you hear them?" The old Priest nodded and tried to explain his whereabouts, but Angelus cut him off with a violent wave of his arm. "Actually I don't give a shit. Let's just get this show on the road because I swear if I have to listen to them chant for another minute I'm going to say 'fuck the ritual' and eat one of them just to shut him up!"

Father Donlan began backing towards the door and Angelus' scaly brow raised. "Care to share why you look so nervous now, Father?" The Priest looked like he wanted to make a break for the door so Angelus moved to stand in front of said door, blocking any hope of escape. "I'm not seeing the happy-joy-missions a go-look from you, Donlan." Angelus' red eyes narrowed and he grabbed the priest by the collar, hauling the old man up off his feet. "Where's my body?" he asked in a quiet, but menacing voice.

Father Donlan let out a squeak. "He didn't show up!" he babbled, tears flooding his eyes as terror overwhelmed him. He felt the snarl reverberate in Angelus' chest and he began to pray, scared to the point of nearly wetting his pants as the demon glared at him like he was something he wanted to crush—or worse—dissect .

Furious, Angelus dropped him barely resisting the urge to rip the old man's throat out for his incompetence, but then he thought of Angel and all his responsibility issues came to mind and his eyes narrowed. "Something's wrong," he muttered. "I know my goody-goody soul and he'd never duck out like that. Something happened and I have to know what." Angelus glared down at his green scaly hands and with a short roar of rage he realized he couldn't even go out looking for his erstwhile body. "Dammit!" he snapped, clenching his fists.

"Well, maybe he was sick…" Father Donlan started, only to bite back his words when Angelus shot him a furious look, his pointy teeth flashing as he growled. The old priest stumbled back a step in fright. "Or something like that," he finished quietly.

Angelus paced. "No. I feel it, something's wrong." He paused and rolled his red eyes as the chanting of the Svera Priests got louder. "And that damned chanting…" His jaw tightened and a rumble sounded in his chest. "I can't take anymore of it!" he gritted out. Suddenly his eyes lit on the Priest and they began to glow a blood red. "Okay—plan B. Since you fucked up the ritual," the demon said with a crafty smile, "you get to fix it." With a cry of sheer terror Father Donlan turned and ran for the door, but Angelus was there long before him. "Unh-unh-uh," he taunted, wagging a finger in the priest's face. "This party is just getting started. If Agent Booth won't come to me…I'll go to him. And your body…" Angelus' gaze raked over the Priest's stocky, but aging frame, "will have to do," he said with a roll of his eyes.

"No-no—please Angelus…" the priest begged, but Angelus simply shook his head and clamped a hand over Donlan's mouth as he dragged the struggling clergyman out the door and down the hallway where the Svera Priests were chanting away in preparation for the Resurrection spell.

He flung open the door. The seven priests' heads shot up when he entered the room. The chanting ground to a halt and the priests all took a quick step back, their fear of the demon obvious. Angelus tossed Father Donlan into the center of the circle. "Okay, listen up—change of plans. Put me in his body for now—"

One of the Priests' raised a brow. "This is the body you choose?"

Angelus growled in frustration as he gave the man a look that said, 'are you serious?' The white haired, sky blue eyed Priest took a quick step away from the mercurial tempered demon. Angelus smirked, good mood restored as their fear wafted to his nostrils. "No, this isn't the body I'd choose you moron, but it's a body available." The Priest looked like he was going to say more and Angelus cut him off with a sharp wave of a hand. "Don't worry about what_ I'm_ doing! Just do the God-damned ritual and put me in the old man for now," he bit out angrily.

The Priests all looked at each other and Angelus gave a toothy grin. "Oh…and keep on chanting because I'll be back with my body by tonight and you _better_ be prepared to do it all over again," he said almost pleasantly, but there was no mistaking the threat in his voice.

The Priests looked at each other warily. The spell was a powerful one—doing it once was a chore, but twice…?! The demon was asking a lot, but the fear of Angelus made them all nod. "As you wish, Angelus,' the Priest who'd spoken earlier said as he turned to gather the herbs and other tools they'd need for the ritual.

* * *

Jeffersonian Medico/Legal Lab:

Buffy stormed into the lab. "Dr Brennan," she called out from beneath the dais. "Hello…Dr. Brennan?"

Brennan glanced up from the remains she was studying, a frown marring her features as she took off the magnifying glasses she was wearing. She went the railing of the platform and looked down to see Buffy standing there. Her frown deepened when she looked for and didn't see Booth accompanying the blond Slayer. "Ms. Summers?" she replied. "It is Ms. Summers, right?"

Buffy nodded. "Call me Buffy and I don't have a lot of time so can you come down here? I seriously need to talk to you."

Tempe shook her head. "I'm in the middle of this case Ms.—um—Buffy. You've been dating Booth, surely you know that."

"Yep, I do, but this kind-a has something to do with the case, so can you please come down here so we can talk in private," Buffy said as she noticed the rest of Dr. Brennan's team gathering around to listen to their conversation.

Brennan too had noticed Hodgins, Angela and Zack take pause in their work to blatantly eavesdrop—which wasn't all that difficult considering the young woman was yelling from beneath the platform. "Fine," she said. She marched across the floor, swiping her card quickly before coming down the stairs to meet Buffy. "I'm not sure exactly what you can offer this case, but I want you to understand I don't like being disturbed in my lab," Brennan told Buffy bluntly. "The only reason I'm even discussing this with you is because Booth obviously trusts you," she said as she led Buffy to her office.

Buffy's eyes widened a bit at Brennan's brusque, straight forward manner. "Okay, not exactly the welcome I was hoping for…but she didn't throw me out either," Buffy muttered under her breath. Now if only no one discovered those two unconscious guards she left in the supply closet…

* * *

Rebecca Stinson's house.

Angel sat in the car for several minutes gathering up the nerve to go up the steps to the front door. His memories as Booth had hit him almost as soon as he'd walked outside his apartment earlier. It had been a shocking revelation as he remembered everything from being a childhood with an alcoholic, abusive father, to being a sniper—which he found ironic, even in this life he was a killer. He remembered almost marrying Rebecca and then Parker…That had almost brought him to his knees. On the heels of learning he'd lost one son, he remembered he had another. Blinding sorrow had mixed with joy, melding together, twisting and turning until Angel wasn't sure what he was feeling anymore. It was a bizarre conflict of emotions and he'd gotten so furious at the people inside—he'd just left.

Why the hell had they made him remember? He'd been damned happy as Seeley Booth. Hell, he'd even found and fallen for Buffy again! That had simply blown Angel away in a manner he hadn't felt since the first time he'd laid eyes on her. She truly was his soul-mate. He no longer had any doubts, but he was seriously pissed off at her right now so he had to sort out his feelings before talking to her. He pocketed his keys and stared at Rebecca's house again. A woman he'd never really loved, but had memories of loving. A woman he had a child with. Was Parker even his? He had to know and the only way to do that was to see the boy. Angel's gut told him he'd know—maybe Connors soul was in Parker. It gave him hope. He opened the door and headed up the walkway, brows drawn down into a frown as he tried to come up with a reasonable excuse to be here since it wasn't his 'visiting' day.

He knocked on the door. To hell with excuses, he needed to see Parker—end of story.

Rebecca opened the door and her smile faded as she saw him standing there. "Seeley," she said, standing in the doorway and not inviting him in. "What are you doing here?" Rebecca noticed his expression and hers turned to one of apprehension. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Angel replied. "I just…" He swallowed hard. "I just wanted to see Parker real quick. Can I come in?" he asked softly.

Something seemed off about him to Rebecca so she stepped aside and let him in. "He's up in his room. Are you sure you're okay?" she asked again, laying a hand on his arm.

Angel looked down at the small blond. Well, at least they'd gotten his type right; he couldn't help but think as visuals of him and this woman having sex floated across his mind. But it had never happened—well, actually in the last few weeks it had, but it wasn't really him. She was waiting for him to answer so he nodded, shaking off the lingering images. "No, everything is fine, Rebecca, I just needed to see him. Thanks," he said, heading up the stairs to his son's room—feeling strange that he knew the way even though he, himself, had never really been here.

He opened the door and poked his head inside. The boy was beautiful and Angel stared in shock as he suddenly noticed the striking resemblance the boy bore to Buffy. Wide hazel eyes, wavy dark blond hair—Buffy's natural color, not the bleach blond she'd been going with the last few years, but when Parker yelled 'dad' and leaped off his bed to race across the room and into Angel's open arms, it was the smile that snared his attention and held it. That was Buffy's grin. Angel clutched the boy to him as he counted back the years and days to the day that never was. His knees wobbled and he fell back, still holding Parker. "Oh my God," he murmured as he realized Parker was born nearly exactly nine months after the day that never was. It hit him like a Mack truck driving straight into his gut. This was his child—his and Buffy's.

He swallowed back the overwhelming emotions coursing through him. Parker wouldn't understand. "Hey buddy," he said as his son squeezed his neck tight and giggled at how his dad had toppled over. Angel gave a shaky laugh, blinking back the tears that threatened to fall. "Hey, whoa there—not so rough on your old dad," he said, heart soaring even as he raged at the powers for nearly taking this away from them.

Parker gave him another hard hug. "Aw, come on dad, you're like a super-hero. You can take it."

"A super hero?" he asked, brow shooting up. "Really?" His face broke into a grin that lit up his handsome face. "That's…" he paused, "totally cool," he said. "Is that really how you see your old man?"

Parker giggled again. "You're not old—well, not_ that_ old, dad," he amended, a teasing sparkle in those green eyes that reminded Angel of Buffy so badly it nearly choked him up all over again. Parker leaned back in his dad's arms. "So what-cha doin' here?"

Angel shrugged. "Just wanted to say goodnight."

Parker seemed to ponder that and then as if finding it a valid excuse he shrugged too. "Okay. You looked kind-a weird when you came in that's all."

"Weird?" Angel asked, brow skyrocketing again. "How did I look weird?"

"Oh I dunno—like you were gonna cry or something, but that's silly right?"

Angel laughed. "Hey guys cry too."

"They do? But not you dad. I've never seen you cry."

"Oh I've cried," Angel said, picking up his son.

"Over what?" parker asked in disbelief as Angel carried him back to bed.

"About…" Angel drew a blank. He certainly couldn't tell him some of the things that had made him cry—he'd scare the kid half to death! "I cried when you were born," he finally said. Parker looked at him like he was kidding so Angel leaned down, tucking the covers around Parker's small frame lovingly. "When I found out I had a son—I cried because I was so happy," he said softly.

Parker seemed to find that excusable and he smiled. "Does Mom know you cried?"

Angel thought of Buffy, even though Parker meant the stranger downstairs. "No and don't tell her," he said in a stage whisper.

"Why?" Parker asked, his voice dropping to a whisper too.

A slow grin spread across Angel's face. "Because then she might think I'm a sissy, right? And we don't want her to think that."

Parker burst into laughter. "No way. Mom says you're like the bravest guy she ever met."

That floored Angel and he blinked at Parker for several seconds. "Really?"

"Sure dad, come on you save people every day. That's so cool!" the boy exclaimed.

Angel felt his chest swell. These were the things he'd missed with Connor—he wasn't missing them again. "I love you," he said and placed a kiss on Parker's forehead.

The boy grimaced. "Aw dad, kissing is just gross you know?"

Angel's laugh was husky with emotion. "Well, you'll have to deal," he said getting to his feet. He grinned and brushed back the hair from Parker's face. "Sometimes your old man just needs to get mushy—am I still a hero?"

"O'course," Parker said as if that was a stupid question. "Even Superman gets all mushy sometimes."

Angel touched the boy one last time. This was his son—his and Buffy's child created on a day that was so perfect it had been tucked away into the farthest regions of his psyche because even to think about brought a pain so excruciating it was nearly debilitating. "Goodnight Parker," he said softly, before he turned and headed for the door.

"G'night dad," the boy answered, snuggling under his covers with a yawn. "Love you too," he mumbled as his eyes drooped closed and he drifted into sleep.

At the doorway, Angel paused, watching him a second longer before he turned out the light and shut the door with a soft click. Outside his son's room he leaned against the wall as his heart raced—that was something he was still getting used to. He put a hand to his chest as if that would help. What the hell should he do? He knew that was Buffy's son—he felt her soul in that boy. Should he tell her? His gut churned as he pictured her emotional response. No—they had to face Angelus first. Getting into the day that wasn't would only leave them more vulnerable to Angelus' mind games. Angel pushed off the wall. He wouldn't tell Buffy—not yet, but he did intend to get the story out of Whistler—even if he had to rouse up some of Angelus' more creative torture techniques to do so.

After a brief thank you and goodbye to the woman who wasn't really the mother to his child, Angel headed out into the night; his only thought was on talking to Buffy. He had to tell her he forgave her and that he loved her. He'd thought she was lost to him, but somehow she'd found him. He didn't want to waste anymore time being angry at her. Too much time had already been lost. No, tonight he wanted to hold her in his arms—_his_—as Angel. He wanted to make love to her. He wanted to watch her face as she came under him—over him—next to him. Hell, he just wanted to make love to her as himself period. They were facing possible death once again, they deserved a night together as Angel and Buffy—the Powers, at the _very_ least, owed them that, he thought as he hopped into his Suburban.

His phone rang as he started the engine. He grabbed it out of his jacket pocket. "Booth," he answered automatically, frowning slightly as he did so.

"So you're not missing," Bones said.

He frowned. "Huh?"

"Your girlfriend is here and she told me you were missing…" Angel rolled his eyes. He should have known Buffy wouldn't wait patiently for him to come back. "Booth, I don't want to alarm you, but I think she's unstable. She came in here with a story that would make a Stephen King novel seem like non-fiction. Can you get over here because she's a little hysterical and I think she also injured some guards on the premises too."

"Shit!" he cursed under his breath. "Listen Bones—don't call security. I'm on my way," Angel said, falling into Booth almost, but not quite naturally as he worried over what exactly Buffy had told the ever scientific Dr. Brennan.

He shook his head. "Great," he muttered as he pulled away from the curb, resisting the urge to put the pedal to the metal and floor it. Suddenly he noticed the switch that read lights/siren and he grinned. "Why not," he said to himself and flipped the switch. Blue and red flashing lights flashed in his grill and the siren began to wail. Angel gunned the engine, feeling better as he ran red lights at will, eager to get to Buffy before she got arrested or worse—told Bones about their past…

* * *

_**Okay guys…hoped you liked that chappie. I have two left and yes, they're done!! I will be posting a chappie a week on this for the next two weeks…and then it's over and I'll get back to BoD as well as my Vampire Diaries fic. BUT—I want to get this one out there to all of you who have waited so patiently. THANK YOU!! Again, you are simply the best and I love you all. Now feed the little beast so she feeds me. Thanks again for all your support and patience. :) :) :)**_

_**Xoxo**_

_**Jen**_


	15. Chapter 15

Still His Girl

A fic by: Jen

Rating: M

Disclaimer: No, I don't own any of these characters, though I truly wished I could own David B—just for one little night!!

A/N: Now before you flame me—I know this is late, but my computer crashed and I lost everything! ALL my fics—everything!! I had to totally re-write this, but now that I have, I'm actually happier with this version than the first one. Hope you like it too and thank you for being patient with me. I am working on BoD as I write this—lost that one too! It was almost a killing blow to my musie!! All that work just gone—you have no idea how depressed I was! Anyhow, thank you so much to all of you who continue to support this fic. The next update won't be so long in coming, but I'd really like to get something posted on Born of Darkness first, so please bear with me, okay?

Okay, now enough of my chatter…on with the chappie!

xoxo

Jen

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**Chappie 15**

**Jeffersonian Institute:**

Angel made it to the Lab in record time. He had to stop Buffy before she told Bones everything. The overly analytical and ever rational Dr. Brennan would never believe such a wild tale and Angel had absolutely no desire to try and change her mind. It was best to leave her in the dark.

Angel hurried to Brennan's office, but Hodgin's stopped him on the way. "Hey Booth, I've been studying the particulates from a few of those bodies we dug up at the Church and man that old Priest is lying. There's no way those bodies were buried years ago. One is no more than a month old."

That struck Angel. In all the turmoil he'd almost forgotten the case he'd been working as Seeley Booth. Immediately he went into 'Booth' mode. "How's that?"

"Well, first off there's blow fly larvae on one of the bodies. The pupa never hatched, but it wouldn't be there if the body was as old as the Priest claimed."

Angel nodded. "Did we find out cause of death yet?"

Hodgin's looked animated as he said, "That's the thing—the only wound on a few of the bodies appears to be a torn out throat. I keep saying it, man, but no one will believe me, but I'm seriously thinking vampire, dude."

While being called dude set his teeth on edge, the part with the vampires...now that absolutely got Angel's full attention. "Shit!" he muttered as he realized Father Donlan had to be harboring a vampire. At that exact second his entire conversation with Buffy from earlier—before he remembered rushed back and a cold chill raced up his spine and settled in his gut. Angelus. Angel knew it as well as he knew his own name. "Shit!" he cursed again and started to leave before he paused and glanced at the bearded scientist seriously. "Great work, Hodgin's," he said, recalling the man's name easily from the file of people he'd been working with for the last year. "Listen, I gotta talk to Bones, but I'm headng back out to that church tonight…" He settled a hand on Jack's shoulder. "You really do good work here. I know I don't tell you that enough. There never seems to be enough time to tell people you appreciate them, you know?" he said with a reassuring, almost sad smile.

Angel shook off his melancholy when Hodgin's gaped at him and gave him a strange look. "Anyhow, I think you may have just given me the ammunition I need to make that Priest confess to whatever the hell's going on out there," he said, clapping his hand on the other man's shoulder again and patting him awkwardly. Angel never was good at showing his emotions. "Thanks buddy," he said striving for and finding that Booth charm.

Hodgin's jaw dropped. That was probably the longest conversation, not to mention nicest thing Booth had ever said to him and he hadn't even called him a squint when he'd said it! Jack nodded with a wary little frown in Booth's direction. "Um—right. Okay, well I'll just go back and—"

"Get me everything you can," Angel supplied, walking away.

"Sure," he said watching the agent leave.

Angela sauntered up just then. "What's wrong?"

Hodgin's shrugged. "Nothing it's just—well—I think Booth's been hi-jacked by aliens is all."

Angela giggled. "Okay, vampire's and now aliens? Watch it or you might get bumped from conspiracy theorist—to nutcase!"

He rolled his eyes, but let Booth's strange little pep-talk drop. Maybe he wasn't such a Government G-Man after all.

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Angel strode through the glass doors of Brennan's office. "Buffy…" he said softly, pausing when his eyes landed on her petite frame sitting on the couch. Her hands were clasped in her lap and she was in a quiet, but heated debate about the existence of vampire's with Bones. He rolled his eyes. Shit! His fists clenched. He was too late.

Her conversation immediately stopped at the sound of his voice. "Angel!" she gasped and leaped off the couch—she went to rush into his arms, but skidded to a stop as it dawned on her he might not appreciate any contact with her at the moment. He'd left angry and suddenly earlier. "Um…" Her brows drew down and she worried her bottom lip in a way he'd always—and still did—find adorable. "Are you—did you get the answers you were looking for?" she asked and Angel would've had to be blind to miss the hope shining in her eyes.

He opened his arms, unmindful of Brenna watching them with a frown. "Yeah, and they led me back here—to you, Buffy. They always have."

It took a second for his words to sink in before Buffy threw caution to the wind and launched herself into his open arms. She covered his face in kisses. "Finally the Powers decided to do me a solid!" she muttered, clinging to him so tightly he grunted in pain—his human body unable to take her Slayer strength anymore.

Buffy immediately relaxed her hold. "Sorry," she said, but she wasn't letting him go. She unwrapped herself from around his body, but grabbed his hand and clutched it within her own, clearly telling him she was holding on to him this time!

He gave her a small grin. "I'm not going anywhere, love. We have lots to talk about, but now isn't the time, okay?" he said gently before turning back to Brennan who was watching the scene with a raised brow. "Soooo," he said, flashing a smile. "April Fools?" he said, charmingly trying to blow past whatever Buffy had told Bones.

Brennan's brow simply rose higher. "Why did she just call you Angel?"

"Crap," he muttered.

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**Downtown Washington:**

Agent Sullivan was heading back to the J. Edgar Hoover building when his phone buzzed signalling a new text. He smiled, hoping it was from Tempe. When he opened the phone, his smile turned into a scowl as he read the message.

_'Get your arse over here, ya bloody ponce! No excuses!'_

Sully sighed. He thought of ignoring the message, but he knew he couldn't keep putting them off. He hadn't done a single thing to try and find this Buffy Summers and the Watcher's Council was getting anxious. He'd have to go. His father would have a fit if he ruined their reputation with the council. Sully sighed again and reluctantly pulled out of traffic. He made an illegal U-turn and headed back downtown--towards the little dive motel the Council assasins had holed up in hoping that this wasn't going to turn ugle. He pulled his gun out of the center console and shoved it into his side-armed holster. Can't be too careful with these guys, he thought, hoping he wouldn't have a cause to need it, but again--with Counxil goons--who knew. Thye were killers and Sully didn't want to be collateral damage in their hunt for the 'all mighty-bad-Slayer'!

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**Back at the Jeffersonian:**

"I can't believe this," Temperance Brennan said for what had to be the hundredth time.

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Believe me, I've seen things that you wouldn't believe, but they happened just the same!" she muttered.

"But you're trying to tell me that vampires exist—that_ Booth_; my partner that I've known for two years used to be a vampire! How can you possibly expect me to believe that? It's not simple conjecture—it's pure fantasy!"

"It happened! He was—or is Angel. He just told you that!" Buffy said, gnashing her teeth to keep from pounding the truth into the stubborn doctor's head!

"This is not rational. It's the rambling of deluded perceptions. Maybe you both ate or drank something that has induced some kind of psychotic delusion..." Buffy made a rude sound and Brennan gave Angel a strange look of disbelief, melded with hurt. "How can you honestly expect me to believe this?"

"It's true--every word I've told you. I wasn't born Seeley Booth--I was born Liam McKenna in--"

"1726, yes you told me," she said, shaking her head. "And then you became a vampire in 1753 when this Darla turned you, right?"

Both Angel and Buffy made a face at that name, but for different reasons. "Yes," Angel said softly. "I know this is difficult to believe--"

"Difficult?" Bones repeated, eyes widening. She laughed. "Difficult is trying to find a parking spot at trhe Diner at lunch time. This is insane--totally irrational," she said with a snort.

"Rational-schmational!" Buffy grumbled crossing her arms as she glared at Brennan. "Why can't you just believe him?" Tempe was about to reply when Buffy narrowed her eyes and curled her lip. "Oh and if you call me deluded one more time I'm going to show you just what a Slayer is capable of, got it?"

"Buffy—" Angel warned, tensing as if waiting for them to start fighting.

Buffy wasn't hearing it though and rounded on him angrily. "No, don't you see? She isn't going to believe unless I show her what I'm capable of!"

"While I have to agree with her," Bones cut in. "I don't like the threat I'm sensing from you, Miss—Buffy. I don't do well with threats."

Buffy simply grinned. "I could be across that room before you could even blink," she said with a smile.

Bones rolled her eyes. "That's highly unlikely…"

Angel was tugging at the collar of his shirt, realizing with his new need for breath—he could also get breathless and anxious. He didn't really like the feeling. "Buffy, can we stop with the cat fight?" he asked, loosening the tie that felt like it was strangling him right about now.

Brennan cut in. "I don't understand what you mean by cat fight. Is that another one of those sayings of yours?"

Angel muttered a soft, "Never mind."

Brennan shrugged. "Either way, what you're telling me is beyond pure conjecture and logically I couldn't begin to believe such irrational ramblings such as this without the proof to back it up. It wouldn't be scientific and I'm—"

"Yeah, we get it," Buffy interjected. "You're all about the science."

Brennan frowned. "I don't understand. Why does she say that like it's a bad thing?" she asked Angel.

"Because sometimes things that go bump in the night don't fit into your science, that's why!" Buffy shot back.

Both women turned to him and Angel looked like he wanted to be anywhere but here—in between these two women who were polar opposites of each other. "Um…" he mumbled.

Buffy took his hand. "Sweetie, we're wasting time here—precious time we need to be looking for Angelus. Now either you let me show her—or we leave and let her just stay in the dark—weirded out and thinking we're both coo-coo for Cocoa-Puffs!" She gave him a tiny smile. "You're choice."

Angel ran a hand down his face, but sighed and said, "Show her."

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**The Church of Holy Saints:**

Angelus looked at the wrinkled, aged hands of the body he now inhabited. "Ugh," he gritted out, grimacing in distaste. He had no desire to be trapped in an old priest for the rest of his existence. A knock sounded on the door and Angelus glared at it. "Yes?" he asked, keeping the rage he felt tucked away and out of the old man's voice.

Lorraine, Donlan's red-headed assistant poked her head inside. "The parishioners are wondering when you'll be holding confessional, Father," she said quietly.

At that exact second the realization of how he could make this body work for him in a wicked bit of fun came to mind. He nodded. "I'm ready now, lass," he said trying to hide the smirk that wanted to spread across his face.

She bobbed her head. "I'll tell them straight away, Father. There are several waiting for you already."

He smiled again. "Perfect." Angelus had to bite back his laughter. He'd always had a thing for churches—nuns and convents. Something about defiling Gods work, maybe…it had always appealed to that twisted side of his nature, but he'd never actually been on the inside like this. He was actually in the body of a Priest! It was fucking perfect. He giggled as soon as the twiggy assistant left. He'd eat her for a snack if it wasn't for the fact that she wasn't an innocent—she'd killed that other Priest, not too mention she had a face even a horse would be proud of.

A few minutes later, Angelus nodded his head at his 'parishioners' as he strolled down the aisle towards the confessional booth. His mood was definitely improved and some would even say his stride was jovial as he held his hand out for some of his 'sheep' to hold—or kiss, much to his amusement. If any of the Church-goers noticed the jaunty whistling of the Irish tune 'Danny Boy' as he passed, they didn't comment.

When he got himself seated, Angelus was reminded of a time long ago, right before he'd turned Drusilla. He'd already blown into her life in his typical beguiling, yet brutal fashion. Seducing her with his handsome face while luring her deeper into his dark world and like any good, God-fearing girl of that time, she'd gone to confess her sins to a Priest. Looking for her God to protect her! It still made him smile and roll his eyes. Like that'd ever worked! It still brought a smile to his face as he remembered her huddled there in the tiny booth whimpering about her burgeoning lust for the devil with a face like an angel. He'd barely managed to stifle his giggles as she confessed her secret desires to_ him_—the very one who was tormenting her so!

Just like today, it had been sheer luck that he found himself in the position of playing the role of Father to lost souls in need of confession—well in Dru's case, he'd just snacked on the 'real' Priest, but still…hearing her confession, knowing all her dirty little secrets had added a whole new dimension in his game with her. Given him the inside scoop, so to speak, at how he could manipulate her, twist her until he'd made every fear or desire she'd dreamed up far worse_ or_ far better than she'd ever imagined. Angelus' mind drifted back to the first time he fucked her—literally screwing the piety right out of her. He'd relished her feeble, half hearted attempts to deny him, but in the end she'd clung to him, long nails digging into his broad shoulders, scraping down his back as she arched into every thrust of his hips. He'd made her scream his name, coming around his cock even as she wept for her lost virtue.

A slow, cunning grin spread across the weathered features of his 'temporary' body at the memory. Dru's fall from grace had been spectacular, but Buffy's would have been better. His jaw tightened. He needed his 'real' body back in order to achieve that goal, but this little turn as Father Donlan might turn out to be good for a bit of sport until he could_ finally_ do what he should have done in the first place. Seduce and fuck Buffy to within an inch of her life before he twisted and molded her into something unrecognizable. Bend her to his will until there was nothing left but an empty shell of the vibrant girl who'd once been the 'greatest' Slayer to ever live.

He felt a stirring in his pants and smirked as he glanced down at the bulge in his black slacks. So the old guy had some juice left in him after all, he thought with a small chuckle. His hand slid down to his crotch and he gripped the disappointingly small erection he now sported as he savored the thought of Buffy's submission. He may not like the package he was in at present, but he didn't let being trapped in this body spoil his fun—when he got Buffy under him again, he'd be in the body that was rightfully his. The face and form that he knew full well she couldn't resist and then the real fun would start.

He was getting lost in his fantasy when he heard the confessional door open and he jerked upright, rubbing his hands together in anticipation of his first sinner. "Come to Daddy," he chortled under his breath as the person on the other side said the words he waited for…

"Forgive me father for I have sinned…"

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**Palomar Hotel.**

"So they told him the bloody truth—just like that?" Spike grumbled, pacing back and forth so furiously that Dawn wondered if he was going to wear a rut in the carpet.

"I told you—Buffy tried to stop it, but Willow—she—"

"Bloody well should have let those memories stay buried!" Spike snapped.

Heaving a long sigh, Dawn sat up and wrapped her arms around her drawn up knees. She rested her cheek there and glanced at Spike with a worried frown. "How do you think he's going to react?"

Spike paused in his marathon pacing to gape at her. "Well, he's just learned he's not the bleedin' super-hero he thought he was and is really an ex-vampire with over a hundred years of blood and death on his hands, not to mention a tormented soul to boot!" He snorted and gave a dramatic roll of his striking blue eyes. "How the bloody hell do ya think he's gonna react, Bit? He's Angel—he's gonna go off a brood for a hell of lot more time than we have if Angelus is really on the loose again!"

Her hands tightened around her knees. "What can we do to help?" she asked softly.

Spike paused and out of habit his hands went to pat down his jacket, looking for a smoke. He pulled one out—ignored dawn's frown and lit it. "We need to find him," he said blowing out a cloud of blue smoke. His eyes narrowed as he enjoyed the calming influence of the nicotine. He took another long drag. "Or we all better start praying he sucks it up and doesn't fall into his prick of a demon's hands because I can tell ya one thing… 'Angelus—the Sequel' isn't something I want to experience." His jaw tightened as he stubbed out his cigarette. "The soddin' ponce likes his torture just a little too much for me to find him coming back anything less than bloody frightening," he muttered under his breath, too low for Dawn to hear.

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**Brennan's office:**

Bones stared in stunned silence as Buffy showed her a few examples of her super-human strength. It boggled the analytical doctors' mind as she watched the tiny blond bend a piece of lead pipe, shaping it into a figure 8, almost as if the solid steel was made of clay. Her jaw was hanging and as if just realizing she was gaping like a fish out of water, Brennan closed it with a snap before running a shaky hand through her hair. "That's—I don't know what to say because it defies all logic," she finally muttered, sagging back into the chair behind her desk. It took her a minute before her hyper-rational mind came up with an explanation for Buffy's abilities. "Most cultures believe that some sort of super-natural powers can be elicited through ritual or psychotropic drugs—the Kiowa Tribe of Native Americans believe that the Peyote plant can guide them to communicate with God without the medium of a Priest." She suddenly sat forward as a logical reason for Buffy's strength came to her. "Phencyclidine has also been known to cause super human powers in its users. Increased strength and endurance is a common side-effect," she said, nodding as if that explained it.

"Phena-what?" Buffy asked, stumped. She glanced at Angel. "What is she talking about?"

"PCP, Buffy," he whispered with a frown at Dr. Brennan—he couldn't see her as Bones right now—for in reality this woman suddenly felt like a stranger to him with all her talk of drugs and her constant disbelief of waht was right there for her to see.

Buffy's jaw dropped and her eyes narrowed dangerously. "You _so _need to take that back!" she growled, taking a threatening step towards Brennan.

Angel grabbed her arm, "Buffy," he said.

"Don't Buffy me," she spat, tugging her arm free. "Buffy her—or Bones her—" Her face flamed as Angel's eyes widened and his lips twitched. "Okay, that didn't come out like I meant it to, but you know what I mean, Angel. Tell her to take that back!" Without waiting for him to do so, she rounded on Brennan again, jabbing a finger at her. "I have never—_ever _used drugs and I don't appreciate you implying that I do!"

Brennan studied the other woman for a moment before responding. "If I've offended you it wasn't my intention," she said without apologizing, "but your super-human strength just defies logic and I was just trying to find a rational explanation for what you can do."

Buffy wasn't appeased and her face scrunched up in a scowl. "Are you really so 'Miss-everything has to fit into a rational little box' that you can't see what's right in front of your face?" Then she glanced at Angel and smirked as she crossed her arms, leveling her hazel eyes on Temperance. "Of course you are or you would have hit on the numminess that was your partner."

Brennan's eyes went to Angel and she frowned. "But I did--was attracted to him. Booth was the one who decided to draw lines in our relationship," Brennan said in her usual forthright manner.

Buffy's eyes bulged as Angel groaned low and deeply. The Slayer turned to her lover, flushed red with jealous anger. "Did you sleep with her?" she gritted out.

He was wearing that deer in the headlight look that Cordy used to call his 'Buffy-face'. "What?" he croaked.

Buffy gave a little growl and Angel went into action. "Buffy wait," he said grabbing her arm again when she went to storm out of the office. "No-no—it was a kiss. Just a kiss and I had no memory of you—remember?" he said softly, cupping her cheek in his big hand. "We've never slept together."

"No, we haven't," Brennan added. "THough he does look like he'd be a good breeder," she added.

Buffy gave Brennan a wide eyed, 'are you serious?' look before turning back to Angel with embarrassed apologies. "I'm sorry. I'm so jealous and totally being like hypocritical-Buffy right now, right?" she said, hugging him and rubbing her cheek against his chest, enjoying the solid *thump-thump* there for just a minute before pulling back. "Forgive me?" she asked.

He gave a small smile and nodded. "I kind-a like jealous Buffy," he admitted softly.

Buffy's face beamed for a minute before she turned back to Brennan. "Look, I really don't have time to make you believe me. You saw the proof with your own eyes, but if you can't go there. I get it, but I have to tell you—there's a real big-bad out there and because you're important to Angel—Booth—he'll go after you, so you need to just trust us on this and stay close, okay?"

"But I can take care of myself," Bones said.

"Not against Angelus you can't," Angel cut in. "Dr—" He paused seeing Brennan stiffen at the formal use of her title. "Bones," he reiterated, and she visibly relaxed at the familiar nick-name. "Listen to me, Angelus will go after you because you mean something to me," he told her softly. "So, please, just once, have a little bit of faith and just trust me, okay?" She still looked skeptical, so Angel gave her, what Bones had dubbed his charm smile.

Brennan relented with a long, drawn out sigh. "Fine, but don't doubt that I'll speak my mind. You know how I feel about the supernatural, Booth—" She paused, "or is it Angel…" Her brows drew down in a frown, "is that what you want me to call you now?" He nodded and she shook her head at the whole situation. "Either way, you know how I feel and I will still look for a more scientific explanation to this turn of events rather than this deluded fantasy of vampires and vampire slayers, you understand that, right?"

Buffy made a face and blew out a frustrated breath. "Oh yeah," she muttered, sitting on the arm of the couch, next to where Angel was sitting. "I think we get that loud and clear."

Brennan tilted her head to the side. "Are you mocking me?"

Buffy's eyes widened exaggeratedly and a small smirk spread across her face. "Me? Mocking? Never," she said, ignoring Angel's soft hiss of her name.

"I don't think I like you, Ms. Summers," Temperance said finally.

Buffy gave a humorless laugh. "If only I had a dollar for every time someone said that to me…" she quipped, getting up from the couch to stride across the room. She stopped in front of Tempe's desk. "You don't have to like me, but you better listen to me if we meet up with Angelus—because I can tell you right now, your science and rational explanations won't mean anything to him when he's gunning for your throat!" Buffy placed her palms flat on the desk and leaned in—looking into the beautiful doctor's eyes. "Angel told me you don't believe in God…" Brennan nodded and started to reply, but Buffy made a chopping motion with her hand, surprisingly Bones fell silent—the power radiating from Buffy was palpable in the room. "I really don't care if you believe in God or not, but I can tell you this…you better believe in the devil, because you very well may meet him if you and your crew don't stay away from that church."

Brenna gaped. "What do you mean? This is a Federal investigation, I can't simply stay away."

Buffy slammed her hands on the desk—Brennan stared, stunned, even Angel jumped. "No," she shot back, "this is a vampire thing and that makes it mine. If you want to stay in the dark and hold on to your 'oh so rational' way of thinking you better stay far away from that church," she warned. Buffy stood and her eyes took on a far away look as she remembered her previous confrontations with the demon Angelus. She shivered and rubbed her hands up and down her arms as if she just caught a sudden chill. "Trust me…" she whispered, still staring into space. "What you'll find there won't only just blow all those scientific rationalizations out the window—it just might get you tortured and killed," she said in a quietly determined voice, clenching her tiny fists as if preparing for battle.

And she was—her final battle with the one nemesis that truly frightened her because he knew her—knew her inside and out. Angelus understood what made her tick and he would use every trick to hurt her—bring her to her knees by using her innermost fears and desires against her. It was a daunting thought, but Buffy knew she had to face him again, only this time she was sending _his_ ass to hell—not Angel!

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**Later:**

"Did you have to be so hard on her?" Angel asked Buffy as he pulled the big black SUV out of the Jeffersonian parking lot.

Buffy shot him an incredulous look. "She needed to be told to stay away from the church," she said, and then scowled. "And let's not forget she asked me if I was on PCP!!" She raised a brow at him and huffed, "How do you think I should have reacted to that? A polite no—I prefer crack!"

He grinned. "Crack is whack," he chirped, flashing that magnificent grin that made her belly flutter and her toes curl.

"Okay random much?" she replied, but the smile was back on her face. She glanced out the window, noticing the Washington Monument in the night skyline. She turned back to Angel with a sigh. "Okay, so where to now? Should we head to the church for a little recon?"

He shot her a sideways look. "No, that's what he'll be expecting—us to go after him. Let's do the unexpected—make him come after me." Buffy started to fidget and opened her mouth to tell him all the reasons she hated that idea, but he held his hand up to ward off her reply. "It's what he wants and we both know it. He wants this body…"

Buffy suddenly giggled. "I totally get that—I want that body too," she said huskily, gazing at him with wide hazel eyes.

Angel visibly swallowed. "Buffy—we need to talk first."

"Before what?" she asked, batting her lashes at him. Since they weren't going after Angelus, Buffy decided then and there _she _was going after Angel.

He cleared his throat and she noticed how his hands tightened on the steering wheel until his knuckles were white. "Before we…" He swallowed again, "you know," he said with an uncomfortable little shrug.

Buffy almost laughed—almost, but she didn't. Instead she scooted closer to him and placed her hand on his knee. "Have sex?" she purred. "Screw like bunnies," she offered, biting back her grin when he gave a low little growl. "Make love?" she said softly, running her nails along the bunched, corded muscles of his thigh.

"Buffy!" Angel groaned in a strangled voice. "If you want to make it back to my place in one piece you'll stop that." Her hand squeezed his knee again and he hissed softly. "Okay if you want I can just pull over and toss you in the back seat." He started to exit the thoroughfare.

"No," Buffy said, sitting back in her seat. "I can wait," she said giving him an innocent smile.

He Stared at her. "You're so beautiful," he whispered."I know we shared—we made love already, but I didn't remember then. Now I do." He gave her that beautiful smile of his and Buffy melted a little bit more. God, she'd missed that 'Angel' smile. He took her hand and brought it to his lips. He kissed her knuckles gently. "I haven't made love to you in almost ten years—I want it to be…special," he finished softly.

Buffy was officially a huge pile of Buffy-goo at that point. "I love you," she said, blinking back a fresh wave of tears.

He squeezed her hand. "I love you too," he replied. "But we still need to talk before we get to the making love part of this night," he added, smirking when her lip jutted out in a pout.

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**Jeffersonian:**

Brennan was getting ready to leave for the night, she'd just shut down her computer and grabbed her purse and files when her phone buzzed. She set the files down and dug her phone out of her purse. "Hello?" she said.

"Tempe?" the voice on the other end replied.

She cradled the phone to her ear with her shoulder as she picked up the rest of her files and headed out of her office. "Sully," she said, flipping off the light as she exited. "What is it? I've kind of had a strange night so I really can't talk right now."

He ignored the brusqueness in her voice—it was her style, not to mention the glaring stares of the three council goons were egging him on—forcing him to put on a happy face in order to wheedle from her whatever information about Booth and the Slayer she had. "Hey, not a problem, I was just wondering if you'd seen Booth tonight."

Brennan frowned as she swiped her card and walked out the sliding glass doors of the lab. "Why?" she asked.

"Um—well because I need to go over some information about the case," Sully lied—and not well.

"What case?" Bones asked. "You aren't working on a case with Booth," she said, frowning as she realized Sully was lying to her.

"I'm consulting as a profiler on the Graveyard murders," he lied again, much more smoothly this time.

"Since when?" Tempe asked, pausing and putting her finger in her free ear so she could hear Sully better.

"Since tonight," he answered.

It wasn't too far out of the realm of possibilities so Brennan believed him. "Oh, he didn't tell me," she said her face still wearing a frown, but now for a different reason. Booth—or Angel—hadn't told her Sully was a part of the case too. "Yeah, he and his girlfriend were here about an hour ago. Have you talked to her? She's quite disconcerting with all her talk of the supernatural."

Sully swallowed as the council guys leaned closer—listening to every word.

"Ask her about the bloody Slayer," one of them whispered harshly.

"His girlfriend? Is that Buffy?" Sully asked, dreading the answer he knew was coming.

"Yeah," Brennan answered, "and I'm not really sure what to make of her." Bones didn't tell Sully about what they'd told her about Booth not being Booth, but really being this ex-vampire named Angel. Her mind hadn't wrapped around that yet, so she couldn't possibly explain it to someone else. Plus, telling someone else would feel like she was betraying him somehow and even if he wasn't Booth anymore—she still thought of him as her partner.

"Where did they go?" Sully asked casually—too casually.

"Huh?" Brennan asked as the elevator doors opened. Warning bells were starting to ring—why did he want to know that?

"Where did they go?" Sully repeated, more urgently now.

The tone of his voice sent red-flags sailing in her head and Brenna was suddenly sure she was not going to answer that question—even if she knew. "I have to go—elevator's here. I'll call you back in my car," she said and clicked off her phone without giving him a chance to reply.

Brennan was getting into her car when her phone rang again. She blew out an exasperated breath and grabbed the phone. "Sully—I don't think—"

It wasn't Sully. "Is this Dr. Temperance Brennan," a vaguely familiar voice asked.

Bones frowned as she inserted her key into the ignition. She paused without turning the key. "Yes, who's this?" she replied.

"Dr. Brennan, this is Father Donlan. We met the other day."

Brennan was completely shocked. The Priest had taken an instant dislike to her and her views on religion. Why would he be calling her? "Yes," she answered slowly, trying to decipher the purpose for his call. "I remember. I also remember you not especially prescribing to my views, so what can I do for you Mr. Donlan," she said, purposely leaving off the 'father' in his title.

Intrigued at her disrespect to the church, Angelus grinned with delight. He glanced down at his feet, and smiled as he kicked at the dead body of the young blond he'd just fed on. Nudging her body to and for with his foot as he debated how much he should say to the good doctor. He decided on vague. "Nothing dear girl, it's what I can do for you and Agent Booth—that's why I'm calling. I found something here tonight—something I think you need to see…" he told her, putting just the right amount of mystery in his voice. "Can you come here—to the Church? It's really important that you come tonight," he said softly—striving for the desired amount of trepidation to get her to come.

Though Brennan remembered Buffy's warning to stay away from the Church, she was a black-belt and a crack shot with a firearm. This was her case too and she wanted it solved. She could take care of herself. Decision made, she turned the key in the ignition. "I'm on my way," she said.

He almost went 'cha-ching' as she agreed, but he managed to hold back his glee at how easily she'd fallen into his trap. Angelus hung up and wondered just how much spunk the doctor had. From what he'd learned she was something of an enigma, but Angel—or Booth rather, cared deeply for her and that made her a worthwhile target in Angelus' book. He got out of bed, cursing as the 'temporary' body he was using wobbled a bit. His knees ached and it pissed the demon off. He liked his body strong and handsome, not old and feeble!

With a curse he bent over, grabbed the girl by her feet and dragged his latest snack into the closet. He pushed the other bodies piled inside one on top of another further inside the tiny closet, noticing it was getting a tad crowded in there. He'd been starved today. All those sins…that entire trauma of listening to these people's pathetic existence had built up an appetite in him that was almost insatiable. Angelus excused his voracity by saying he'd only eaten the neediest—culled the herd, so to speak, he thought with a smirk. After all, after hearing how miserable they were—how remorseful…the least he could do was to put 'em out of their misery. Right?

He grinned and rang for the Svera Priest forced to do his bidding now that Donlan was gone. When the white haired man came into the room, Angelus opened the door to the closet and pointed at the several bodies lying haphazardly inside. "Get rid of these," he ordered, letting his features shift into that of his demon—on Donlan's weathered features it was truly grotesque and the old Svera Priest stumbled back a step as he stared in fright at the monster he'd helped to release. Angelus chuckled, ran his tongue along a razor sharp fang and exited the room without waiting for a reply; he knew he'd be obeyed.

With a spring in his step he headed towards the office to await Dr. Brennan. She sounded like she might have some spunk. He always had loved torturing the spirit out of a person. Angelus grinned wickedly, rubbing his hands together. Well-well-well…he thought this might turn into a rather interesting night after all…

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**Booth's apartment:**

They'd planned to talk—really they had, but as usual when Buffy and Angel were in a room together the sparks flew and before either knew it, there was major kiss-age going on.

Angel caught her easily as she leapt into his arms and wrapped her firm thighs around his waist. They could talk after they made love, that was all he thought as he carried her, banging against the walls of the short hallway like a pin-ball, into his bedroom. The only thing on his mind was getting them both naked as quick as humanely possible. They fell onto the bed, never breaking their lip lock. Finally after several more heated, wet kisses, Angel raised his head, gasping for breath that seemed strange to him now that he remembered who he really was.

"Buffy,' he panted, tugging at her clothes. "Need you," he muttered, tearing her blouse as he pulled it from her writhing body.

Buffy was in whole-hearted agreement. Her hands weren't idle. In one swift move she ripped open his shirt, sending buttons flying pell-mell across the room. "Mmmmm, sooo good," she purred, bucking her hips up under him as she ran her hands along the smooth, hard muscled planes of his sculpted chest.

Angel arched into her touch, gasping when her nails raked over his pebbled nipples. He sucked in a sharp breath. "Buffy!" he hissed, grinding his erection against her center.

Buffy let her thighs fall totally open as she locked her ankles around his back. "Angel! Yes—pleeease!" she whined, burying her hands in his short, dark hair and dragging his face back to hers so she could taste his heavenly lips again.

He accommodated her, kissing her back with eager abandon as they rid themselves of the barriers between them. Once they were both naked, he pulled back and stared deeply into her eyes. "I love you," he whispered. "I always did—always have—always will. Forgive me—this is going to be fast because I can't wait a second longer," he said before he gripped her hips in both hands and thrust inside her.

Buffy's head fell back and a silent scream of ecstasy was etched upon her beautiful face as she was finally reunited with her first love—her only real love. Making love to Booth had been amazing because he was Angel—just a little cockier, but this really was Angel, with all of his memories and love for her. Buffy couldn't get enough. Her hands roamed his superb body as he moved in and out of her, clutching his shoulders tightly and raking her nails down his back as she silently pleaded with him for more.

Angel gave her what she needed. He buried his head in her neck and despite the fact that he'd lived as a human for the last two years—now that he had his own memories back, her neck and blood called out to him and he swore he could almost taste the bloodlust—could almost feel his face shifting as his fangs sprouted. With a deep growl he swooped down on her neck and locked his mouth on her jugular, sucking on that taut flesh hard—hard enough to leave a deep purple bruise almost immediately. It was also hard enough to send Buffy over the edge, tumbling mindlessly into her first orgasm.

"Angel!" she screamed, gasping for breath as she pressed his face into her neck, pulsing around his cock with such force that Angel's eyes rolled in pleasure. She was flushed a beautiful shade of rose from her orgasm and Angel had to fight to maintain control as his body ached to come right along with her.

He gave her throat one more nip before he raised himself above her, bracing his weight on both arms. He pumped his hips harder, fully penetrating her, driving inside her body in a fast and furious rhythm that quickly had both of them racing towards that sweet oblivion of release.

Angel's balanced his weight on one bulging arm as his other hand went between their bodies to find her clitoris. It was swollen—plump and filled with blood. It made his mouth water. He swirled it between his thumb and index finger, tugging on it lightly before he gave it the pressure she needed.

"I—oh God...Aaangelll!" she wailed as once again Buffy was tossed into a vortex of pure bliss. Wave after wave of raw, unadulterated pleasure washed over her body and all she could do was cling to her lover and ride out the storm.

Angel couldn't take anymore—she was the most exquisite creature he'd ever laid eyes on and with a deep groan he gave one last thrust, buried himself to the hilt inside her and came—spurting hot, thick jets of cum deep inside her womb for so long he thought he might never stop climaxing. His teeth gritted and he panted as his body trembled inside her, pleasure racing along every nerve as he collapsed on top of her, gloriously spent.

They stayed that way for several long moments until Angel finally found the strength to roll off her.

"Nooo," Buffy moaned and clung to him, rolling right along with him so that she ended up sprawled across his chest.

Angel stroked the damp hair back from her face. "Wow," he gasped out, his breathing labored and ragged from exertion and pleasure.

Buffy propped herself up on his naked chest and slowly opened heavy lidded hazel eyes. "Mmmmm," she said, licking her lips, "you can say that again…"

Angel chuckled huskily. She was grinning from ear to ear like the cat that ate not only the cream, but also the canary! "I take it you don't mind me being human—you know I'm kind of lacking the whole vampire stamina and all…"

She giggled as he hugged her tighter. She cupped his face in her hands and stared down at him. "You've been human what—like twice in two hundred and fifty years?" She gave him a sultry little grin, "I don't recall this part of your humanity ever being an issue."

Angel froze. His big brown eyes went wide and he blinked at her rapidly as it hit him what she'd just said. "You—you remember—that day?" he gasped softly, unsure whether he should be happy or prepared to flee if she decided to whip his ass for that decision he'd made without her...again.

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**Okay guys, hope you liked that chappie. I was going to end it after Angelus' call to Bones, but I needed some B/A loving as I'm sure you did too. Now click the little button—I promise the next update won't be so long in coming, but bare with me you guys, like I said earlier—I lost everything when my computer crashed. ALL my fics just went poof!! A friend of mine said he might be able to retrieve my data, but I'm not holding my breath so I'm re-writing them. This is a lot different than the first draft of this chappie…so we'll see what musie comes up with, eh??**

**Anyways, please feed the greedy little review whore so that she can be fat and happy…she's such a pain when she'd whiny!! lol! :) :) :)**

**Jen**


	16. Chapter 16

_Still His Girl_

_A fic by: Jen_

_Rating: M_

_Disclaimer: I own nothing, so please don't sue me! I'd totally love to own DB for just one teensy night, but alas…I do not, so this is my way of having "fun" with him! :)_

****A/N1**: First of all I want to give my heartfelt thanks to all of you who've been wondering where I've been—I'm extremely sorry, but I was in a pretty bad car accident. I broke my right ulna (forearm) in three places, broke my left collar bone, dislocated my shoulder and shattered my knee-cap. The paramedics (firemen) said that if I hadn't been wearing a seat belt—I most likely would have died. :O I know-it was bad. My face looked like Mike Tyson had went to town on me thanks to the air bag! I used to never wear a seat belt, but my kids nagged me into it several years ago and now it's just a habit, but thank God it was because I would not be here today if it wasn't! So seriously—not to be a nag—but as a newly re-born seat belt advocate-wear a seat belt you guys. :) It saved my life. Okay, no more preaching! But needless to say it has been a difficult recovery so I hope you all forgive me abandoning my fics…I didn't mean to and I promise to get to work on them as soon as possible, but please be patient with me until I've fully recovered. The next Buffy fic I will be posting on after this is 'Born of Darkness'. I really miss that evil-sexy Angelus! ;) :P

Again...Thank you for all your kind words and your pms asking if I was okay. Your caring and consideration-even your nudges and frustration made me feel so cared about and showed me how much you guys love my fics. Thank you! Okay…enough fluffy-Jen-mush…but I just had to tell you how much your support means to me. :)

****A/N: 2:** Okay, so I wanted to get this out last week, but I had to re-read the entire fic because I wanted it to be a good chappie and not just a filler to post, you know? I wanted you all to really LOVE it. But—let me say, oh boy am I glad I read it all over because I found some MAJOR plot flaws in this chappie…that happens when you haven't posted on a fic in a while-you forget what you wrote before, but I've since corrected—at least I hope I caught them all—the mistakes in this chappie. There may be a few typos or grammar errors…sorry guys, but this is un-beta read, so any boo-boos are ALL mine. I just wanted to get it out to you because you've been so nice and patient (yikes, well most of you-lol) in waiting for this. I know it was long in coming and I'm very sorry, but as you saw in my A/N-1 I was in a really bad car accident so it was slow healing.

******Okay, now nuff of my chatter—on with Still His Girl. Ya'll have all waited long enough, right? ;)

**To recap:** Buffy just told Angel she remembers the day that never was and this chappie takes place directly after that moment—so you might wanna go and re-read it…

xoxo

Jen

**Chappie 16**

The atsmosphere had been sexy-post coital bliss is always like that. So relaxing-intimate and honestly Buffy had slipped. She hadn't meant to tell him that, but now that the cat was officially 'out of the bag' she realized this wasn't something she was going to hold back—there'd been enough of that already. She folded her arms across his muscled chest and propped her chin atop them. Looking down at his wide eyed-waiting for her to freak on him-gaze, she gave him an encouraging little smile. "Yeah Angel, I do—I remembered a while ago," she shrugged her shoulders slightly, "but I understand why you did what you did so you can lose the 'deer in the headlight' look, okay? I'm not mad," she told him truthfully.

His brow shot up to his hairline and he let out the breath he'd been holding with a loud *whoosh*. "You're not?" he asked, grabbing a pillow and propping it behind his back. He wriggled into a sitting position and Buffy cuddled up to him again, laying her head on his chest. He gazed down at her, his dark brown eyes wide and more than a little surprised. A soft smile curled his lips upward as he brushed the hair back from her face tenderly. "Are you sure?" She nodded and he wagged his head back and forth. "I don't understand. I gave away our chance at happiness—why aren't you mad at me?" he asked, seriously befuddled at her calm acceptance of what he considered his 'ultimate-making-a-decision-without-her-moment'.

Buffy sighed. She understood. She_ did_ hate how he'd always made every serious-life changing decision without consulting her, but that was then-this was now. She sat up a bit so that she was eye to eye with him. "See, its kind-a like getting mad at you for spilling milk years after you spilled it…" He frowned and she hastily added, "Not that what you did can be called spilling milk—unless it was like a thousand gallons and you dumped it on—" His brows lowered even more and Buffy sighed, "okay, never mind." She paused before continuing, "Anyways, what I'm trying to say is if I'd remembered what you did at the time…I would have been livid—insane with anger, even." Her brows lowered. "I probably would have wanted to stake you!" she admitted. Her face lightened. "But today…?" She shrugged, "not so much—" His eyes widened and Buffy explained. "Really, there was nothing I could do about it when I found out and even if I could, I understood why you did it—it was for the greater good. I get that."

Angel's thoughts went to Parker and his pulse accelerated. He had to stop to admire and just feel how strange his pounding heart felt. But then reality set in and he realized he had to tell her about his theory, even if letting her know that what he'd done might have cost them their child absolutely scared the shit out of him. Not only because he was the King of self flagulation and didn't really want to go there again, but he also had the immediate concern of how Buffy would take such news. He'd seen her pissed and he really didn't want that directed at him—especially when he didn't have vampire stamina and pain tolerance anymore! Her big green eyes gazed at him so lovingly-so full of trust and Angel felt like the biggest jerk alive. He had to tell her no matter what she did or how she reacted-he owed her that much. "Buffy..." he started, stopped, and then swallowed. "I don't know how to tell you this…" He choked on the words and his stomach churned. What if he lost her because of this? Angel felt physically ill at that, but was determined to tell her. He swallowed again, trying to find the words to explain...

Buffy's lower lip jutted out and her brows drew down. Angel looking like this was never-ever a good thing. Her green eyes drilled him as she gripped his chin and forced his gaze back to hers. "Okay this isn't funny. Angel…you have definite something face—so spill it cause you're starting to freak me out here," she said, worrying her bottom lip with her sparkling white teeth.

He took a deep breath. "Buffy, on the day when you came to LA…I was human, remember?"

She gaped, and then rolled her eyes as she snuggled closer to him. "Um—yeah, I totally remember the amazing sex-breaking your kitchen table-chocolate and peanut butter in bed and let's not forget the ice-cream..." She giggled, and flashed him a seductive little grin. "Mmmmm, kind-a hard to forget," she teased, running her hand down his belly to toy with the hair that made up his 'treasure-trail'. "Wanna go for a repeat?" she asked, licking her lips. "Got any ice cream, baby? I can spill it across your chest and lick it up..."

He groaned softly as his lower-brain urged him to just keep quiet. What she was suggesting made his body spring to life and her scenario sounded hot and heavenly-just like that day was so hot it was burned in his brain forever! _But_, Angel reminded himself, he had to tell her the truth. Even as he ached to re-live that memory, he struggled with the memory of what he'd done afterwards-the decision he'd made (again-without her) that was leading them to this particular conversation. Angel glanced down at the diminutive blond in his arms. She was his life. Buffy—his Buffy—he'd never thought to have her back in his arms and now that he did, he never wanted her to leave again. She was his everything and he loved her with every breath in his body. "Yeah," he agreed. "It was the most amazing day of my life until this last week…" he said softly. Buffy's smile was blinding and Angel basked for a moment before he remembered he _did_ have a point to make. "But…well, um…you also remember I didn't wear protection, right?" he ran a hand through his hair. "I mean—I'd been a vampire for two hundred-plus years…Hell, condoms weren't even invented when I was human," he said with a small shrug.

She chuckled until she realized he was serious. Her eyes narrowed. "So…?" He was fidgeting and wouldn't meet her eyes again. Never a good sign with Angel. Buffy heaved a soft sigh, cupped his face in her hands and forced his chocolate gaze back to her own. "Angel, stop with the cryptic and just tell me what the hell you're talking about because I'm getting lost here. So…you didn't wear protection…what's the big? So we had unprotected sex years ago? I didn't get pregnant…see this is like the spilled milk thingy again," she said, grinning.

But Angel didn't return her smile. Instead he swallowed convulsively several times before answering and when he did it was the very last thing Buffy had been expecting to hear. "What if you did-what if something I did made us lose the child you were supposed to have?" he croaked.

Buffy's jaw dropped and her stomach flip-flopped. "Angel, if this is your idea of making a funny—it's really lacking in the funny part!"

"It's not a joke, Buffy," he said quietly, holding onto her tighter as he felt her body coil like a spring. He forced himself to go on. "I saw Parker tonight and he—the Powers—I think they—"

At that exact second Whistler and Doyle blinked into the room causing Angel to stutter to a stop just as Buffy's eyes were bugging out of her head. Whistler made a *tsking* sound. "You know Big Guy—you really weren't supposed to figure that out," the badly dressed demon quipped.

Angel gave a low growl at seeing Doyle and Whistler standing at the end of his bed, while Buffy gave a little squeak and dove under the covers.

"What the hell are you doing here?" the former vampire demanded, pulling the covers up to his waist, while making sure Buffy was totally covered from view.

"Looks like we're trying to stop you from opening a can of worms you're not at all prepared to deal with!" Whistler shot back.

Once Buffy was sufficiently un-exposed, she leaned back against the headboard next to Angel, tucking the sheet under her arms to keep her body covered. Her gaze went from Angel back to the PTB's messengers as if debating which she should grill first, finally she leveled her blazing green eyes on Whistler and Doyle and there was no mistaking the anger in her voice as she said, "Explain—now!"

Whistler gave Angel a disgruntled look before heaving a sigh. "Why don't you two get dressed and meet us in the living room." He smirked. "I love you two kids, but this is a little _too_ cozy if ya know what I mean," he said over his shoulder as he walked out of the room.

Buffy turned to Angel after they'd left. "Angel—what are you talking about?" she asked, tucking a tangled lock of blond hair behind her ear. "You said Parker—isn't that Booth's son?"

He sighed as he got out of bed and padded naked to his dresser. "Buffy, I think Parker is our son, but I'm not sure." She was kneeling on the bed gaping at him like a fish out of water and he hated doing this to her, but she—he deserved to know if that boy was theirs. He handed her a T-shirt and a pair of his boxers. They'd be huge on her, but he was eager to hear if his theory was correct. "Here baby, put these on and let's get out there and let Whistler explain."

Numbly, Buffy took the clothes. She was flying totally on instinct right now as she began to get dressed. "But—" Buffy started and Angel cut her off.

"Buffy, you have to promise not to lose it when I tell you what I think…" he said.

She frowned as she knotted the boxers around her tiny waist to make them fit. "How can I promise that? If he tells me that's my child—I might just wring his stupid-powers-that-be-messenger-boy-neck!" she bit out, dragging the T-shirt over her head.

"Just promise you'll listen to what Whistler has to say then before you lose it then," he said as he took a pair of sweat pants out of his dresser and pulled them on.

Buffy pulled her hair out from the collar of the shirt and knotted it atop her head. "I got an idea—how about you tell me right now why you think Parker is mine?" she asked, crossing her arms and tapping her foot, giving Angel that hurt-confused-semi-angry look that always had and (to his dismay) he was now finding out, _still did_ make him squirm.

Angel went to her and took her hands in his. He hunkered down so that he was eye to eye with her. "Because I saw Parker tonight and he looks just like you, baby. Blond hair, big green eyes—but it was his smile that really threw me for a loop." He cupped her quivering chin in one big hand. "Buffy, he has your smile," he whispered.

A myriad of emotions assailed Buffy at that point. Fear—excitement—rage and a happiness so great it left her breathless. Her stomach dropped and she suddenly felt sick. Why? Why would the Powers take her child? It was…inconceivable that they would be that cruel—wasn't it? They couldn't—they wouldn't—but as she thought back of how the PTB's had treated their Champions. It hit her like a sledge hammer to the gut. Oh yes, they could and would-if it suited the 'greater good'! Her knees wobbled and her mouth opened and closed without a sound coming out.

"Buffy!" Angel cried, catching hold of her as she stumbled. Wordlessly she clung to him for a few seconds before a small, but agonized sob burst out of her and Buffy pushed herself away from Angel. Her lip trembled and those huge mossy green eyes filled with tears. He reached out for her, but she slapped his hands away with a sharp 'don't!' Angel cringed at the little girl lost look she had on her face before she put her head down and took several deep breaths. He stood there fidgeting, unsure what to do. "Buffy…?" he queried, "Are you okay?"

She raised her head and that stubborn little chin lifted too. She met his gaze head on and gave him a smirk worthy of Angelus himself. "What do you think?" she snapped. Angel backed off and looked down. "No, I'm so not okay, but…" she sighed, "I'm not mad at you Angel."

He breathed a sigh of relief, but guilt was making him sick to his stomach. "I'm sorry-this is my fault. If I hadn't—"

"Don't!" she spat, interrupting him. "You've suffered at their hands just like I have so don't you dare take the blame for those lying bastards now!" she hissed. "Yeah, I'm pissed at you, but you didn't do this and I won't let you beat yourself up for it—we'll talk about your 'stupid-making-decisions-without-me-tactics and how you're _not_ going to do it anymore_ after_ we deal with those two out there—alright?" Angel nodded, Buffy had that look he recognized as her 'ass-kicking' face and he did not want to add _his_ ass to her list. "Good," she said. "Now I think our _guests _have been waiting long enough-don't want to give them _too_ long to come up with another lie, you know!" she spat and without another word she spun on her heel and marched out of his room and towards the living room.

As he watched her storm out of the room, Angel could only be 'oh-so-glad' he was not Whistler at that point, but Buffy was angrier than he'd ever seen her and the ex-vampire realized Whistler might not get a chance to explain before she kicked his teeth down his throat. "Shit!" he cursed, as he took off after her. Hopefully Buffy would, at least, give the red-headed demon a small chance to tell the truth before she pummeled him!

**The Church of the Holy Saints:**

Brennan shut the door to her car and walked through the dark, eerie parking lot to the Church. For a place of God—the place sure did give her the creeps! It was so quiet—almost too quiet as a matter of fact. The door to the Church opened with a loud *squeak* and Brennan poked her head inside. "Hello…" she called out. "Father Donlan?"

In the rectory, Angelus was finishing a small-blond snack. He licked the wound on the girl's neck, relishing her sweet blood before dropping her dead body on the ground. "You're forgiven, child…" he said, audaciously making the sign of the cross over her body. He heard Tempe's voice and his head shot up. A cruel grin twisted his lips and he rubbed his hands together. "Finally!" he crowed. Now this was something that got his motor revving. He wondered if the good Doctor was a screamer. He wiped his mouth, making sure all traces of blood were gone before he headed out to the main church. "Let the games begin…"

Bones was about to leave when Angelus turned the corner and made his appearance. He spotted the brunette doctor and waved to her. "Dr. Brennan—over here," he called, stopping her retreat. Brennan made her way down the aisle, closer to him and Angelus almost licked his lips in anticipation…

Bones looked put out, but something-an internal instinct was holding her back-slowing her steps. "Look Father, I know Booth believes in all this..." She waved her hands at the altar, "but I don't. It's late, I'm tired and I have to be at the Jeffersonian first thing in the morning. So, what did you have to show me?" she asked when she was a few feet away.

Angelus urged her closer. Just when she was within reach, he looked down at his feet and let his demon out. Ridges popped along his brow and he raised his head, golden eyes glowed with evil delight and he flashed his fangs. "This," he whispered, giving her a toothy grin.

She took a quick step back. "Your face—it's—"

"Not what it used to be right now…but don't worry, I'll keep you alive until I'm the man—demon, I used to be," he said, giggling like a madman.

Brennan gaped, her logical mind unable to assimilate what she was seeing. "What are you?" she asked.

"What does it look like, Doc?" he quipped. She just stared and he snorted. "I thought you were the big-brain here. You know what I am don't you?" he crooned.

Brennan shook her head. "No, this can't be true."

Angelus rolled his golden eyes. "Oh for fucks sake, Doc—I'm a vampire-not quite the smoking hot vamp I used to be, but that's all about to change once my body gets here."

"Your body—what does that mean?" Bones asked, pausing to get a good look at the Priest turned demon.

It was that momentary pause that allowed Angelus to grab her. He continued to chuckle as he reeled her in. She struggled in his grasp, but he was strong-even in the feeble body, his demonic strength was far stronger than Tempe. He licked his lips as she was within biting distance. "Mm..." he purred, "how do you want it-in the neck or somewhere a little more private?" he purred, grabbing her hand to pull her in for the kill.

Tempe fought like a wildcat. She was made of tougher stuff than this and just when he thought he had her a new wave of adreniline hit her and she attacked him. Quicker than he'd anticipated she pivoted and kicked him in the stomach-hard. He stumbled back a few steps, more in surprise than actual pain—after all, she wasn't a Slayer or anything, but he hadn't really expected that kind of fight out of her. His golden eyes narrowed and he smiled wickedly. "I knew you were gonna be a screamer…" he practically purred, licking his lips. Tempe didn't wait to hear the rest of that statement. She took his moment of posturing to make a break for it, but Angelus had anticipated the move and grabbed her around the waist, cursing his less than able body as it took demonic force to catch the nimble doctor. When he thought he had her, she reared back, smashing the back of her head into his nose. Angelus howled and grabbed his (Father Donlan's) face. "Bitch!" he growled clutching his broken nose as the good doctor ran for the door.

Brennan's mind was reeling. Of course now she actually had *proof* that Buffy and Booth (Angel) weren't crazy—but she was also now in the hands of an obviously psychotic Priest/demon! Angelus suddenly appeared in front of the doors leading out of the church. Brennan skidded to a stop and tried to turn to run the other way, but he grabbed the back of her hair and yanked her backwards. She spun and backhanded him, then landed an upper cut that sent him stutter-stepping back. He reached blindly for her, but Brenna turned and grabbed the rectory sign-in book. She held the heavy leather-bound book in both hands and swung it hard, clocking him upside the head with it.

He staggered back, but still laughed insanely. "You know Doc—for such a smarty—you're pretty stupid! All your doing is pissing me off-now instead of simply eating you...I find I have other-far more wicked things I want to do to you!"

Despite the utter terror that statement brought to her, Bones didn't back down. She smirked, still clutching the book to her heaving chest. "Yeah, and its funny that you wear that collar, yet you're a demon! Where's God in all this? You're a monster in the house of God! I guess I was right after all," she said, trying to find some time to fgure a way out of this. Oh, if only she'd believed Booth *before* coming here

Angelus threw his head back and laughed, genuinely amused. "You're quite the little atheist aren't you...?" He winked. "I might just keep you as a pet...after I torture you that is," he said, licking his lips. Distracted by his taunts-Brennan slipped. She took her eyes off him for just that split second-looking for that escape and before she knew what he was doing he leaped over the pews seperating them and grabbed her. He wrapped his arms around her waist and gripped her around her throat. "I could snap your neck like a twig Doc-I'd think twice before attacking me again..."

"St-stop-don't please!" Brennan choked-gasping for breath as his amazingly powerful grip tightened.

"Do you give? Promise to behave and all that crap?" he asked tauntingly.

She nodded frantically as his hold got even tighter. The fight was swiftly leaving her as her breath dwindled. "Please..." she croaked again and Angelus relaxed his strangle-hold. She gasped, breathing in desperate, sweet air, shuddering in the arms of her tormentor.

Angelus paused to savor the scent of delicious fear. She was a fighter, so it made it all the better. He purred as he slid his nose and fangs along her face and neck. He lifted his head and his golden eyes met her wide eyed gaze. "Heavenly…your fear is intoxicating." His smile widened until it was positively evil. A few blood drops from his nose and rolled down his chin to drip onto Tempe's cheek. He smirked and leaned down to lick them away. Bones shuddered in raw horror at the beast holding her captive. Angelus raised his head again and a slow smile spread across his face. "You know—for someone who spouts off about not believing in God all the time…I'd be willing to bet you believe in the devil now—don't you Bone lady?" he whispered. He leaned closer to her cheek and licked the side of her face again, making her quiver in disgust. She made a gagging sound and Angelus gave her an angry look. "Just wait till I get my body back—they called me the devil with the face of an angel-you know that?" he growled. He inhaled Tempe's fear again and smirked, "Maybe once I'm me again, I'll give you a bone you'd really enjoy playing with, Doc," he taunted.

Tempe didn't have a chance to reply to that because he grabbed her by the head and banged her face off the wall, enjoying the crack of flesh hitting plaster as he knocked her unconscious. He gripped his nose and shifted it back into place, grimacing as tissue, cartiledge and bone began to knit itself back together again. It hurt and he scowled down at her. "I owed you that one," he said, touching his nose again tenderly.

The only witnesses to Angelus carrying Bones down the hall was the Svera Priests and they were too scared of the dark demon to do anything more than watch and cower—glad it wasn't them getting carried into his little room of horrors…

**Inside the Camaro: driving across town:**

Spike and Dawn headed over to Booth's apartment. "I think you should have turned back at that last street," Dawn said.

Spike shot her a look. "You said his place was by Castle Manor, right?" Dawn nodded, "Well that bloody Map-Quest thing said to take Columbia Rd. That's what we're on," he said with a nod.

"But Columbia turned back there and now we're on Hyde St.," she pointed out.

Spike's brows lowered as he read the next street sign. "Bloody hell—when did that happen?"

Damn grinned. "At that last right," she told him, smirking.

He rolled his eyes. "Everyone's a bleedin comedienne now…" he grumbled before slamming on the brakes, causing the tires to smoke as the car screeched to a halt. He made a highly illegal U-Turn and peeled out, tires smoking again as he headed back the way they'd just came from.

"You do know that was like totally crazy and against the law—right?"

Spike gave a little growl and tossed the Map-Quest directions at her. "Just read the soddin' directions, Bit, and maybe if we're lucky we'll get there _before _Angelus decides to make a guest appearance, hmm?"

Dawn rolled her eyes, but took the directions and guided him the rest of the way to Booth's, crossing her fingers and praying slilently that they made it there in time...

**Booth's Apartment:**

The first thing Angel noticed was Buffy had Whistler pinned by the throat against the wall and was proceeding to slam his head against the wall as if she were going to use his head to break through the wall and into the next room. Doyle tried to pull her off him, but she simply tossed the little Irish man across the room. Angel got to Doyle in time to help his old friend to his feet just as Buffy was using Whistler's head as a battering ram again.

"She's got a bit of a temper, eh?" Doyle teased, surprisingly good-natured for someone who was just tossed willy-nilly across a room by a girl who weighed no more than a hundred and five pounds.

Angel's smile was full of love and yes—desire too. He loved watching Buffy kick ass. "Yeah, she does," he said softly, noticing how when she raised her arm—holding Whistler above her head the boxers she'd cinched tight around her waist raised higher too, slightly exposing the rounded curves of her ass. He suddenly glanced at Doyle and grimaced when he noticed the Irish man taking note too.

"And not a bad—"

Angel clapped a hand over his mouth and turned Doyle away from Buffy and any view of her ass. "Finish that thought and—"

Doyle burst out laughing and Angel removed his hand. "I was going to say right hook, boyo." Angel looked sheepish until Doyle winked and added, "But now that you mention it—she sure isn't hard on the eyes is she now?"

Angel glared, but it was Doyle and his longtime friend was quickly forgiven with a small warning of A-keep looking at Buffy and Angel would forget how badly he'd missed Doyle and B) he'd make sure Cordy found out too! The second scared the dark haired, blue eyed demon more than the first and he immediately found something besides Buffy to look at!

The sound of Whistler's head hitting the wall with a *thwack* and a *crunch* quickly reminded them both of the immediate danger the red-head was in. Whistler's hat was lying crumpled on the ground and Buffy had him by the lapels of his jacket now—banging against the hard plaster with each word she spoke. "Tell-me-the truth-or I swear-I'll-make-you-a-permanent part-of this-wall!" she snarled a head thwack accentuated each word.

Angel rushed to his lover's side. He understood her anger, but killing Whistler—or splitting his head like a melon—wouldn't solve anything! "Buffy stop!" he said, pulling her off the red-headed demon.

Whistler dropped to the ground, choking. He shook his head, blood was seeping down the side of his face and he was definitely seeing stars as he tried and failed to get to his feet. He sagged to his knees and pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed at the back of his skull. The white fabric came away matted with blood. He glared at Buffy. "Did you really have to smash my skull, Slayer?" He glanced over his shoulder noticing the wall had only suffered a small crack. "Sturdy stuff…" he muttered and Buffy and Angel looked at each other not sure if he meant his head or the wall.

Buffy ignored his question. Her hands were clenched at her sides and it was obvious only Angel's grip on her shoulders kept her from going after Whistler again. "Talk—now," she demanded, taking a threatening step forward despite Angel's hands holding her back.

Whistler scooted back quickly. "Hey kid, before you go all Slayer on me again—give me a minute to organize…." He held the handkerchief to his head again, but it wasn't bleeding so badly anymore so he tucked it back in his pocket before he picked up his hat and got to his feet. He smacked the fedora style hat against his thigh and re-shaped it before putting it back on his head. "It's not every day I get smacked around by a pissed off Slayer, you know?" he quipped, tugging at his collar when the joke fell flat.

Buffy gave a little growl and Angel struggled to keep her calm. "Damn it; just tell us if Parker is ours, will you?" he snapped, continuing to soothe his angry lover with his touch.

Whistler sighed. He'd tried to avoid this, but…"Dammit!" he cursed softly. "It wasn't supposed to go down like this!" he muttered.

"Is Parker mine?" Buffy shouted, breaking free of Angel and going for Whistler again.

The red head stumbled back holding out his hands to ward her off. "Yes!" he said quickly. Buffy stopped and Angel felt his knees wobble. "So it's true," the ex-vampire said softly, more to himself than anyone else.

Whistler heard him. "Yeah, it's true," he admitted, avoiding eye contact with Buffy at this point. "The boy is you and the Slayer's…created on a day that never really existed…"

Angel had known it, but hearing it confirmed—he felt sick to realize what the Powers had taken from him—from Buffy really since they'd essentially given Parker back to him. "Why?" he asked, glancing down at Buffy who had simply shuffled over to him and sagged against his body as if she'd suddenly turned into a limp noodle at Whistler's words. "Why?" he asked again, stronger this time. "Why did they take our child?"

Whistler whipped his hat off and began to pace. "The day had been erased big guy—she…" he pointed to a still strangely quiet Buffy, "didn't even remember it. How would she explain being pregnant? How could the Powers let it happen? What if it wasn't human? What if—"

Angel's eyes narrowed. "That was it—they were scared he might be a vampire or a demon, right?"

Whistler had the grace to look uncomfortable as he mumbled something that sounded like 'maybe'.

Angel's head whipped to Doyle. "Did you know?" he growled.

"What?" Doyle held his hands up and shook his head. "Hey, no…don't look at me like that, boyo—I was amongst the living when this all happened, remember?" he said. His hands waved as he explained, "Angel, I'd never do that to ya, mon. I swear to ya-on me Princess… this is all news to me…" Angel nodded. He believed the Irish man. Doyle glared at Whistler. "So, was this another one of those…needs to know situations?"

Whistler tugged at his collar again and that gave Doyle his answer. The blue eyed man cursed and began to pace.

In that moment the spark seemed to light up in Buffy again as she stomped up to Whistler and poked him in the chest. "So, the Powers decided that instead of having an _inconvenient_ explanation of how their champion became pregnant—they would just steal my child and give it to some other woman?" She crossed her arms. "Or maybe it was just they didn't want the Slayer out of commission for nine months—was that it?' she growled.

Whistler tried placating her. "I don't know, Slayer—honestly, I don't know. All I know is big guy gave the day back and everything that happened with it went back."

"So the all mighty want to blame this all on Angel! They take no responsibility at all—is that what you're telling me?" Whistler swallowed and again tugged at his seemingly ever-tightening collar. Buffy snorted and her eyes narrowed. "Is that your final answer?"

"Slayer…you're not thinking clearly right now…" Whistler said. "It was already done—the decision to undue time had been made!" he exclaimed. "Plus-how would you have explained being pregnant when you didn't even remember going at it like bunnies with the big guy over there?"

Buffy gaped, then shook her head and glanced at Angel with a sadly wry smirk. "And they wonder why I'm done…did you guys watch us then too?" she asked softly.

Doyle shook his head. "And the plot thickens…" he muttered.

Whistler wiped at his brow as Angel and Buffy now took threatening steps towards him. "We uh…might have monitored you—only for a moment," he added hastily.

She laughed without humor before leveling her green eyes on Whistler. "I'm going to skip past the major eew factor there and let you slide on the fact that you could have helped us at any time because I get it—Angel had to be a vampire to defeat the Senior Partners. But that was then—this is now and I want my son!" Buffy looked deadly. Her eyes were hard and there was almost something menacing about her as she pointed a finger at Whistler and demanded, "You and your All Stupid Powers that Suck had better give me back my child or I'm going to make Angelus seem like a picnic—are we clear?"

"Slayer-you can't—" Whistler sputtered.

Buffy cut him off with a violent wave of her hand. Before he could react she'd shot across the room and grabbed him by the collar. She shook him like a rag doll and this time Angel didn't stop her. "I can and I will," she threatened him in a ragged voice. "You have no idea what I'm capable of anymore—trust me…" she snarled. She dropped the red headed demon on the ground and turned her back on him. "Just fix this. I don't care how you do it-just do it!" she demanded before turning to Angel. She held her hand out to him and he took it gently. Her eyes filled with tears and her lower lip quivered. "Angel…I need to see him," she said brokenly.

Angel pulled her to him. "You will…" he promised, glaring at Whistler above Buffy's blond head.

"Please…" she whimpered, clinging to Angel as she wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her little head against his chest as just cried.

Angel cuddled her to him, murmuring soothing noises as he rubbed her back and placed soft kisses on top of her head. After a few uncomfortable minutes of nothing but the formerly unbreakable Slayer sobbing into her lover's chest, Angel finally got Buffy to settle into soft sobs and sniffles. He raised his head and again he nailed Whistler with his eyes, but this time they were so dark—so angry they were almost black. "Go," he growled between gritted teeth. "Tell your Masters they better do as she asks…make this right because _she_ has always been the key to everything and you and the damned powers have just effectively shut her down."

"But Angelus—" Whistler started.

Angel almost wished for fangs to flash right then he was so angry. "Jesus fucking Christ!" he cursed harshly, rubbing Buffy's back when she whimpered at his raised voice. He lowered his voice to a hiss, "don't you see it? She won't stand a chance against Angelus like this. He'll sense her pain and use it against her. Then he'll come after me and while I'm strong, I don't see this human body fighting him off…" he growled softly with an eye roll. Whistler still hemmed and hawed and Angel lost what little ounce of patience he had left. "You _do _understand what he'll do once he gets what he wants…right?" he snapped. At that point Angel gave Whistler a smirk that sent chills up the red head's spine it was so reminiscent of Angelus. His voice was a purr as he said, "Let's just say he'll make this town an all you can eat buffet before he heads off to the rest of the world to create a blood bath you'll never forget!" He nodded to Doyle, before glaring at Whistler, his voice hardening. "So you damn well get your ass up there and tell them to fix this."

"How?" Whistler bemoaned. "We can't just take the boy from Rebecca! She _does_ think he's hers you know!"

Angel laughed. "Give me a break! I've seen entire memories erased—hell, you gave me a whole new fucking life that wasn't mine…so don't tell me you can't fix it." Angel glanced down at his quietly sniffling love. This was not Buffy—this was a broken woman who'd been betrayed by the Powers she fought for one too many times. He'd had just about enough. He placed another kiss on her brow, whispering his love to her. She rubbed her cheek against him and he felt soothed too. "Give us our son…and do it quick, Whistler or you and the powers will be facing Angelus alone because I won't let Buffy go after him like this," he warned.

Doyle was nodding as Angel spoke. "We'll do it," he said after Angel was finished and before Whistler could reply. When the red-headed demon shot him a look, Doyle glared right back. "Don't give me that look o'yours!" he snapped, pacing back and forth, obviously angry at playing any part in hurting Angel or Buffy. "The Powers owe them and I'm aimin' ta see it gets done. Don't bother tryin' ta change me mind, cause on this…I'm set. The Powers will help 'em or they can find themselves a new messenger too as well as new champions!" he announced, puffing out his chest. Angel smiled at his friend and suggested Doyle sick Cordy on the Powers. Doyle chuckled as he winked at Angel. "Always knew you were smarter than that brow o'yours suggested lad," he teased. "Not even the almighty Powers that Be can ignore me 'Princess' when she gets her mind set ta somethin' and I'm thinkin' when she finds out about this…" He shuddered and glanced at Whistler, "I'd say you best steer clear of her for a while, boyo." Doyle's aqua gaze met Angel's and Angel saw the love and determination there. "We'll make this right, Angel. For you and your Slayer…I promise…" he added before grabbing Whistler by the arm and then in a shimmer they were gone.

After Whistler and Doyle had blinked out, Angel led Buffy to the couch. She curled up into a corner, looking sad and forlorn. He tucked a blanket around her and went into the kitchen to make some coffee. After making them both a cup, he went into his room and got out every scrap book he could find on Parker. Smiling, he carried them to the couch where Buffy was huddled. "I have something I want to show you…" he said sitting down next to her.

Her head lifted and when she saw what he was holding a tiny smile finally pulled at her full lips. "Are those…what I think they are?" she asked, biting her lower lip, but scooting closer. There was a big red '1" on the first book.

Angel grinned. "Yep," he said, and pulled her onto his lap grabbing the first photo album.

Buffy blinked back tears and leaned forward to brush a petal soft kiss across his lips. "God, I love you," she said softly and settled herself against his chest to finally see what should have been hers all along—her son's first moments…

**A little dive Motel in D.C.:**

Before Sullivan could even knock on the door, it was yanked open and Collins; the leader of the council's goon-squad grabbed him by the arm and pulled him inside. After giving a cursory look to see if Sully was followed the silver-haired Brit shut the door with a soft click.

"It's about bloody time!" Weatherby snapped from his position across the room. He lounged in one of the two ratty gold chairs that were positioned around a scarred wooden table. Smith sat in the other chair.

"Maybe he thinks coz he's an FBI gent that he doesn't have ta help a bloke out anymore—is that what ya think Sullivan?" Smith asked.

Sully shook his head. "Look I've been working on it," he snapped. "Here's what I got so far." He handed Collins a file.

The man took a drag off his cigarette before sitting on the bed and opening the file. He stubbed out the smoke in the ash-tray and began leafing through the pictures and reading Sullivan's surveillance on Buffy and Booth. "So, they're shagging again, eh?"

Weatherby snorted with disgust. "Damned vampire—he always was her weakness."

"Ain't right," Smith muttered, his weasel-like features scrunching up in a look of distaste before he took a swig of his beer.

Collins made a sound of agreement as he kept reading the report. He snorted and raised a brow at Sullivan. "This is kind-a detailed, mate—what'ya do spy on em through a window or what not?"

Sully scowled and looked away, obviously embarrassed until he remembered following Booth and Buffy had _not_ been his idea. His chin lifted. "Look, I got you what you wanted—do you really care_ how_ I got it?" Collins smirked and agreed that he didn't. Sullivan wanted nothing more than to fulfill his obligation to these men and leave so he told them the latest news—the information not in the report. "Listen, there's something going down at that Church-the Church of the Holy Saints. They've been finding body after body there. I've tried to get in on the case, but Tempe has been pretty close-lipped about it, so it's got to be something out of the ordinary. But I did hear her mention that Booth had caught Buffy snooping there. So…I'm thinking of the—"

"Slayer was snooping," Collins supplied, "it's because vampires are there…" Sullivan nodded and Collins clapped him on the shoulder. "And you're probably right." Collins and the rest of the Council assassins shared a meaningful look and the other two stood, tossed back their beers and pulled their leather matching leather jackets on. "But we need to have a look-see at this church…just to confirm your report—you understand, right?" Collins began leading Sullivan to the door. "You've done well, mate," the silver-haired council assassin told Sully. "Your father will be proud…but, we'll take it from here," he said. He left Sully standing at the door and smirked at the Agent. "You know the way out—right?"

The other two council men were gathering an arsenal of weapons together and loading them into a several large black duffel bags. Sullivan watched the assassins briefly, noticing that several automatic firearms had gone into that bag besides the 'normal' vampire weapons, like stakes and cross-bows. His jaw tightened. He knew what they were doing, they were going out to hunt Buffy and Booth, but once again he didn't stand up to them. He was weak and he knew it. Instead, he grabbed hold of the door knob, fidgeting a bit, he asked, "So that's it—you'll leave me alone now?"

Collins shot a look at Sully over his shoulder and smirked. "For now…as long as this pans out…" he pulled on his own leather jacket and lit a cigarette. He blew the smoke out and shrugged, "Who knows, maybe we'll be able to capture Angelus and the Slayer tonight and be on a plane back to England by morning—we'll be out of your hair for sure then, mate."

Sullivan opened his mouth to remind them they couldn't just take Booth—he was an FBI Agent for God-sakes, but he sighed. These men didn't follow normal laws and maybe with Booth out of the way, Tempe would finally decide to take that cruise with him after all. "Fine, just don't lead anything back to me." He nodded his head at the file. "And burn that. The last thing I want is the FBI to see it."

Collins nodded. "Will do, now if ya don't mind…" He wave his hand, effectively telling Sully he was dismissed, "don't let the door hit ya in the arse mate—we got a rogue Slayer and a demon ta catch!"

****Okay, guys—hope you liked it. I'm re-working the next chappie because it has some major boo-boos…but I'll be getting it up soon…Thank you again for all your love and support. You are simply the best. Now click that button; feed the evil little musie because she's been INSANE since I took her creative drive away and it's been MURDER keeping her from starting new fics! OMG! No! So just feed her and tell her how much you want her to finish what she has started now—kay? :) :) :)**


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